


All Together

by Geoffreyofmonmouth



Series: All Together [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Eating Disorders, Foster Care, M/M, One Direction are kids, Orphans, Possibly underage if you are of delicate sensibilities, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geoffreyofmonmouth/pseuds/Geoffreyofmonmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's last foster home has left him with emotional scars.  What will it be like, moving into a new foster home with four other boys?  (You can guess who the other boys are)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Together

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think this is underage, but if you are paticularly delicate, please don't read. Also note, Louis' sisters are a little older in this than they are in real life.

The social worker led Harry up the driveway. Before they even reached the front door he could hear the sounds of yelling coming from within the small house. He clutched Monkey even tighter in his hands. The social worker carried his small suitcase. She knocked on the door, frowned when it wasn't answered, and put an ear to it.

Harry listened as well. He heard a lady shouting, "Louis, I swear to god, if you don't stop--right, that's it. Outside! Everyone outside! I have to go answer the door. No, I don't care that you weren't doing it, Liam. Outside!"

The social worker knocked again.

"Coming!" they heard her call, and soon the door was opened, onto a tired looking lady dressed casually in jeans and a jumper. Harry held Monkey against his chest.

"Hello, Cynthia," she addressed the social worker.

"Hello, Sandra. I've brought the young boy over we talked about."

"So I see." For a moment, it seemed she wasn't going to let them in, but then she stepped back and opened the door. The social worker motioned Harry ahead of her.

Harry crossed the threshold nervously. He squared himself in front of the lady and said, as bravely as possible, "Hi, I'm Harry."

"Hello, Harry, I'm Ms Curtis. " She looked down, not unkindly at him. "Who's that you've got with you?"

"Monkey," said Harry, not removing Monkey from his position against his chest.

"Monkey, huh?"

The social worker said, "We do appreciate you taking another one in, especially at such short notice. Harry's a good boy, he won't be any trouble, will you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head vigorously.

"Boy needs a good haircut," said Ms Curtis. "Another expense. Why can't you get them cleaned up before you send them to me? When I got Louis he was filthy. Went through two baths of water before we got him clean."

"I'm sorry. Harry's former foster family," she glanced down at Harry, "let's just say they didn't treat him very well. He's been neglected."

"I can see that. So had Louis. Imagine letting a kid go without a bath for a week. When did you last bathe, Harry?"

"Yesterday."

"Good. Are you a clean boy?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I should show you where you're going to sleep."

"Before you do that," said the social worker, "I just have some forms and things."

"Of course you do," said Ms Curtis, leading the way to the meals area. She motioned for the social worker to take a seat and the social worker put down Harry's suitcase and did so. Harry trailed after them, chewing on Monkey's ear. "Sorry about not answering straight away, Louis was driving me nuts. The doctor put him on Ritalin, I don't know what else I can do with him."

Harry knew what Ritalin was. It was for Attention Deficit Disorder. His last foster parents had begged the doctor to put him on it, but the doctor had refused. "But he can't follow simple instructions without stuffing up!" his foster father had declared. Harry clearly remembered the doctor's words. "I see no evidence this boy needs to be on Ritalin. Perhaps you should be less harsh on him. He's only eight."

"He's been on Ritalin now for a few weeks, hasn't he?" said the social worker to Ms Curtis.

Ms Curtis turned to Harry. "Harry, why don't you go out into the back yard and play with the other boys?" she said, pointing towards a sliding door next to the meals area.

Harry stared out the glass. In the garden he could see forms whizzing about. There seemed to be an awful lot of them. In his last foster placement, he'd been the only child.

"Go on," coaxed Ms Curtis, opening the door for him. "Look, see the boy with blond hair there? His name's Niall. Go up to him and tell him I said he had to be your buddy. He won't bite, I promise."

Harry looked at the blond boy. He was kicking a football back and forth across the lawn with two other boys. They all looked older than him. He looked back, but Ms Curtis and the social worker were looking at him expectantly, so he stepped outside.

The door closed behind him. The boys playing football didn't notice. Harry stood under the verandah for a bit, trying to work up the courage to go over to Niall. Then someone kicked the ball his way, and three pairs of eyes were on him.

"Hey!" exclaimed the dark haired one. "Who are you?"

"Harry."

"Pass us that ball back, would you?"

Harry wasn't very good at football. He willed himself to kick the ball straight, and tried to kick it back to the dark haired boy. The ball dribbled off the side of his shoe and into the flowerbed. Two of the three boys laughed. The third one, Niall, just looked interested. 

"Sorry," said Harry to the dark haired boy, who came to fetch the ball.

"Never mind, small fry. We can't all be experts." The boy kicked the ball up from the ground, bounced it twice on his foot, then sent it off to one of the other boys.

Niall, who was watching everything going on, came jogging up to Harry. "Hey," he said to Harry. "Did you say your name was Harry?"

"Yes." Harry hid Monkey behind his back. He didn't want to be thought of as childish.

"Are you our new brother? We were told we'd be getting one."

"I guess so."

"Awesome. That's Zayn," he pointed to the dark haired one, "and Liam. I don't know where Louis is. Come on, come play with us."

"I'm not very good," Harry warned him.

"Well, you're younger, obviously. You're allowed not to be. Liam!" he called, racing back onto the lawn. "This is our new brother, Harry!"

Liam nodded at him. "Hello. You must be the new boy."

"Yes," said Harry.

"Can you play?"

"Not really."

"Nor can I. Don't worry. Louis is the best of us but he's not here. I don't know where he is." Liam looked around, frowning. "Where is Louis?"

"Proabably snuck down the street to the deli," said Zayn. "Don't worry about him."

"I don't want to get into trouble."

"You won't. Louis is the only one that'll get into trouble."

Niall received the ball from Liam, and kicked to Harry. Harry managed to do a decent stop, then kicked it around the circle to Zayn. His kick was off-target. It went into the bushes. Zayn didn't say anything, just went to retrieve it, and kicked it on to Liam.

Niall asked lots of questions. Where was he from? What had happened to his family? 

Harry answered that he was from Holmes Chapel, that his mum and dad died in a car crash, and his aunt and uncle in Doncaster had decided they only had room for his sister.

"My parents are dead, too," said Niall. "I'm from Ireland. I got moved to my aunty's too, here in Doncaster, but they didn't really want me. Already had four kids of their own and I was just in the way. So I ended up here."

"My parents just don't want me," said Liam.

"Mine are just fucked up," said Zayn. "Don't worry, Harry. We're all in the same boat."

Harry had begun to feel less nervous, until Zayn asked, "What's that in your hand?"

"It's Monkey," said Harry defensively.

But the boys all nodded as though that was okay, and said nothing further. They continued to chat and kick the ball around. Harry found out Liam had been in this foster home the longest, since last year, and Louis the shortest at three months. Another boy who'd been there for a year or so had been sleeping in with Louis, but he'd gone now. "He was hard to like, but I made friends with him because he'd been sexually abused," said Niall matter-of-factly.

Sexual abuse. Harry remembered the questions. Did he ever touch you on your private parts, they'd asked him about his previous foster father. Harry, do you understand what we're asking? Did he ever sexually abuse you? Harry didn't like the sound of it and was happy to be able to say no.

"Louis was hard to like too, at first," continued Niall. "Ms Curtis said he had a massive chip on his shoulder. He was really naughty. But we all became friends over football. He's still the naughtiest, though."

As the sun went down Ms Curtis opened the door and called them in.

"Dinner time!" she said.

Harry entered first. His social worker had gone. "Sit here," Ms Curtis instructed Harry. Harry found himself sitting next to Niall. He'd already decided he liked Niall, even though Niall asked a lot of questions.

Ms Curtis began dishing up pasta. "Where's Louis?"

The boys looked back and forth between each other. "We don't know," Liam finally muttered.

"That boy is going to be the death of me, I swear. He'll be in big trouble when he walks through that door."

They were halfway through the meal when they heard a knock on the front door. "I'll get it," said Ms Curtis. She got up and went to the door. Harry noticed all the other boys had stopped eating, their attention on the door. Harry turned to the door, too.

Ms Curtis opened it. "Louis! Where have you been?"

Louis walked in the door. He wore a backwards cap which his fringe stuck out of, and carried a skateboard. He looked mid-size, in-between Liam as the tallest and Niall as the shortest. Harry wondered how old he was. "I went skateboarding."

"I never gave you permission, young man."

"You told us to go outside!"

"To the yard, I said. Not to go gallivanting around the neighbourhood until all hours. I was worried about you."

"Sure you were."

"I was! Louis, you scare me when you disappear like that. And I know you left without your helmet, because I found it in your room."

"Helmets are for girls," muttered Louis.

"All right, that's it! You can share with Harry."

"Harry?" For the first time, Louis noticed Harry sitting at the table. 

"Yes, Harry," said Ms Curtis. "He's our new boy. I was going to put him in with Zayn, but you can share just as well."

"But I don't want to share!"

"Too bad, mister. You're sharing, and that's that."

Louis looked at Harry. He looked scandalised. "But I'm the oldest! I need my privacy!"

"We just don't have the roomspace to privilege you being by yourself, I'm sorry."

"But Zayn's by himself!"

"Look, Louis. I don't know how many times I'm expected to warn you. There are house rules and you are expected to abide by them. That includes no leaving the property without permission. You didn't have permission to go skateboarding. You're not only grounded for the next week, you're sharing with Harry."

Louis, fringe all over his face, looked aghast at Harry. "But he's a kid!"

"I'm nearly nine," protested Harry.

"And I'm eleven in two weeks! Too old to be sharing with an eight year old."

That was a big difference. Harry touched Monkey, who was lying on his lap. "I can share with Zayn," Harry told Ms Curtis, because he knew from the conversation earlier that Zayn was only nine and he had a spare space in his room. Niall shared with Liam.

"No, you're sharing with Louis, and that's final," said Ms Curtis. "Louis, I'm not kidding. You're grounded for the next week."

"But what will I do?"

"You won't be watching TV, that's for sure. TV's off-limits."

"You never want me to have any fun!"

"You're out of control. No wonder you've been shifted around from foster home to foster home. You need to learn discipline."

"My other foster parents all hated me," said Louis. "Do you hate me?"

"Of course I don't. But you need discipline, and you need to learn consideration for others, and by hook or by crook I'll teach you both."

Louis dropped himself down at the table. He was seated on the narrow end, opposite to where Ms Curtis had been sitting. He was adjacent to Harry. Harry looked around at the other boys. No one was eating. They were all looking back and forth between Louis and Ms Curtis.

Ms Curtis dumped pasta and bolognese sauce onto Louis' plate. Louis scowled down at the food. Mrs Curtis settled back into her seat. "Come on, everyone. Eat up."

Harry picked up his knife and fork again. He noticed the other boys begin eating once again. He took a shy glance at Louis. Louis had begun to eat, too. He still had on his cap. Harry guessed Ms Curtis wasn't as strict on hat-wearing at the table as his last foster family had been.

One by one, everyone finished eating. They all looked at Louis, who hadn't finished, but was pushing food around his plate. "Can I go?" said Louis.

"No, you can finish the food I've served you," said Ms Curtis.

"I'm not hungry."

"Too bad. You're going to eat it."

"I ate a bucket of chips."

"This is good wholesome food and you are going to eat it, young man."

The table was silent as they all waited for Louis to finish. "You can get up," Louis told the boys in general.

"No, stay seated, boys. We have to wait until everyone has finished."

Louis looked down at his plate and shovelled the rest of his food into his mouth. "I've finished," he mumbled.

Everyone got up this time, carrying their plates into the sink. Harry left Monkey on his seat and followed, copying Niall as he rinsed his plate into the second sink and put his plate down in the first sink.

"We'll do the washing up soon," said Ms Curtis. "First I want to show Harry to his room. I haven't had time yet. Come along, Harry. Grab your suitcase."

Harry collected his suitcase and Monkey and went with her up the passage way into a new part of the house. There were several doors along a corridor. "That's the bathroom," Ms Curtis pointed. She showed him to the end room. Another bedroom lay across the passage. "Your room is here. Louis! Come and clear off the spare bed! I'll just get some sheets."

Harry looked into the room. There were two beds, one neatly made, the other a bare mattress covered in schoolbooks and clothes and sporting a helmet that Harry presumed was Louis' skateboard helmet. While Ms Curtis was gone, Louis came into the room. He began taking things off the mattress and dumping them on the floor around the second bed. He paused to look at Harry, still hovering in the doorway with his suitcase.

"I don't have anything against you," Louis told him, dropping a pile on the end of the bed. "I don't even know you. But this is my room. My rules."

"Okay," said Harry.

"You keep all your stuff on your side of the room. I'll keep mine on mine."

"What about this stuff?" Harry pointed to a pile of clothes at the foot of the second bed, in front of the wardrobe. 

"I'll move them." Louis gathered them up into a pile and dumped them on the floor on his side of the room. "They're dirty, anyway," he said.

Ms Curtis came back into the room with sheets and blankets. "Dirty clothes go in the basket in the laundry, how many times do I have to tell you, Louis? No, don't leave them there, take them to the laundry. I'm washing tomorrow. Harry. I cleared some space for you in the wardrobe. Put your clothes in there."

Harry dragged his suitcase over to the wardrobe and opened the door. The wardrobe had several cubby-holes free for him to put his clothes in. Harry didn't have a lot of possessions. By the time Ms Curtis had made the bed, he had finished unpacking.

"Good. Stow your suitcase under the bed, now."

Harry did so. He looked over at Louis' side, while he was crouching down. Louis had a suitcase under his bed, too. It wasn't much bigger than Harry's.

"Harry, why don't you have a shower, get cleaned up? Grab your pyjamas and I'll take you to the bathroom, show you how to work the shower."

The shower had a nozzle that you could hang up in two places on the shower wall. Ms Curtis put it up high from where it was at grabbing level. "You can pull it down if you like," she said, "but I think you're too short to reach it."

"It's okay," said Harry, used to fixed shower heads anyway.

"If you need anything, come and find me. Otherwise, you can just go straight to bed. I'm sure you've had a tiring day, yes?"

Ms Curtis left after turning the water on for him, and Harry undressed. There was no toilet in the room. He needed to use the toilet. He settled for weeing down the drain of the shower. It was too urgent to wait.

Afterwards, he dried himself off with the towel that Ms Curtis had said was his--it was crammed onto one of the two racks with two other towels--and dressed in his pyjamas. He picked up his watch from the ledge where he'd put his clothes. It was nearly eight o'clock. He was tired. Here, in this strange house with these strange boys, he decided he'd go straight to bed.

The light was on in the bedroom but Louis wasn't to be seen. Harry was happy about that. Louis was larger than life; he didn't know how to act around him. He was a bit in awe of the older boy. 

Harry switched the light off and scrambled into bed with Monkey. He lay, listening to the house. He heard Niall and Liam come up the passage, grumbling to each other about having to do the dishes. They went into the opposite bedroom. Zayn must have the room further down the corridor. He could hear the TV playing some talky show that sounded like something his old foster mother had enjoyed. 

Harry thought back on the events of the evening. Louis was obviously a naughty boy. Yet Ms Curtis hadn't hit him, the way his old foster family used to hit Harry if he did something wrong. Sometimes not even when he did something wrong. They just hit him anyway. But Ms Curtis must be different, Harry thought. He felt a little less apprehensive, but still couldn't relax enough to fall asleep.

The bathroom down the passage was busy, with boys having showers. He heard Ms Curtis' voice several times, organising the boys. The light came on in the bedroom. It was Louis. He yelled out the door, "Tell me when you've finished in the shower, Niall!" Then he came into the room. He didn't look at Harry. Harry watched him, peering above the blankets. Louis went over to a bag by his bed, and took some things over to the desk that was in the room. "I hate English," he muttered, settling down in the chair. All was quiet except for the scratching of Louis' pen across paper. 

Harry shuffled, and Louis looked over at him. "Sorry, squirt, but I have homework to do."

"It's okay."

"Go to sleep."

"I'm trying."

"Not looking at me, you're not. Turn around the other way and go to sleep."

Harry, clutching Monkey, obeyed. He turned over to face the wall. He was vaguely aware of Niall coming into the room and telling Louis the shower was free. Louis didn't turn the light off when he left but Harry fell asleep anyway.

***

 

Harry woke some time in the middle of the night, abruptly, and cowered beneath his blankets in fear. His foster father had been known to come into the room in the middle of the night, drunk, and haul Harry out of the bed and hit him around. He listened carefully. Someone was in the room! He could hear breathing.

Then he remembered. He wasn't in his old foster home anymore. 

He looked around the room. In the moonlight coming through the window, whose curtains were hanging open, he could see Louis sleeping in the next bed, breathing rythmically. He cast his attention beyond the room, listening for noises. Everything seemed quiet, but what if there was someone in the house? He was terrified of intruders. He thought he heard a creaking of footsteps in the passage and put Monkey's ear in his mouth. Butterflies erupted in his stomach as he listened as hard as he could. He felt too vulnerable where he was. Where was the safest place in the room? He looked around it again. The answer was obvious. Under Louis' bed. Louis was tough. Anyone who wanted to get to Harry would have to go through Louis first.

He gathered up his pillow, Monkey, and some blankets and went over to Louis' bed as quickly as possible. He shoved everything under the overhanging blankets of Louis' bed and crawled in after. His body hit something. The suitcase. He pushed it up towards the head of the bed and made room for himself as quietly as possible. When settled, he was lying opposite to Louis, with his head at the foot of the bed, the better to peer out and see if anyone was coming.

He stayed alert for a long time. Eventually, comforted by the sound of Louis' breathing, he drifted off. It was early morning when he woke up again, the sun just beginning to light the room. He was safe, now. He could go back to bed.

***

"Harry, time to get up!" Ms Curtis stood by his bed, gently touching him on the shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry yawned and nodded, even though he didn't. 

"Well, you're the last one up. Hurry up, you don't want to be late for your first day at your new school. Do you have a uniform? You need grey trousers and a red jumper."

"Grey trousers," Harry said, "but no red jumper."

"Never mind. Just wear something tidy. I've got a voucher to get you some clothes; I'll buy them for you today. What size are you?"

Harry told her and just then yelling came from the bathroom. Ms Curtis sighed and turned to go. "I'd better go see what that's about," she said, leaving the room.

Harry dressed himself in his grey trousers and a navy blue jumper. He went looking for the toilet and found it next to the bathroom, where Ms Curtis was mediating an argument between Zayn and Liam. When he went to wash his hands, Zayn and Liam had cleared out. Ms Curtis was straightening towels on the racks. 

"Go out to the meals area," she told him, when he'd washed his hands. "Breakfast cereal is on the table."

There was three different kinds of cereal on the table. Harry chose cornflakes, took the last remaining bowl, and sat down in the same place he had the previous night. Niall was at the table and so was Louis. Niall greeted him enthusiastically. Louis, still in pyjamas, looked critically at him.

"Do you carry that thing everywhere?" he asked, pointing to Monkey. 

"You'd better not bring Monkey to school," said Niall. "You'll get teased."

"I know," said Harry. "I won't."

"Its ear is all funny," said Louis.

"So?"

"It looks like you chew on it."

"Louis chews on his fingernails," said Niall.

"Shut up, Niall."

"It's true."

Harry glanced at Louis' fingernails. They were bitten down right to the edge. "I chew on my fingers sometimes," he told Louis.

"Crazy kid." Louis jumped up, his bowl still half full and ran from the room.

"Where did he go?" Harry asked Niall.

"He can't sit still. Ms Curtis reckons he's got ants in his pants." Niall stuffed a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. 

"What's school like?"

"It's okay. We get picked on a bit by some of the mean kids for not having proper parents. But you can stick with us if you want. Me, Liam, and Zayn all hang around together."

"What about Louis?"

"He's got friends of his own. He hangs out with the trouble-makers. He's always getting into trouble."

"I hope I don't get into trouble."

"You will, wearing that jumper."

"I don't have a proper one. Ms Curtis is going to buy me one."

"I didn't have the proper uniform on my first day, either," said Niall. "I didn't even have grey trousers. I got picked on. There's this guy you have to watch out for. His name's Nat. He picks on all of us because we don't have a proper family. He's scared of Louis, though. Louis once beat him up with his skateboard, so he doesn't take on Louis anymore."

"Did Louis get in trouble?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. He got suspended. Well, I've got to go finish getting ready for school. Put your bowl in the sink with the others when you're done."

Zayn came into the area, tossing his schoolbag by the couch and turning on the TV. "Hey, Harry."

"Hi." Harry went into the kitchen and put his bowl in the sink. Then he went back and looked at the cereal boxes, and the cartons of milk. He should put them away. In his last foster home, he'd be in trouble if he didn't. He put the milk in the fridge where there was space in the door, and threw the empty carton out. But he didn't know where the cereal went. He picked up a box and dithered.

Ms Curtis came back in.

"Where does the cereal go?" he asked her.

"Oh, you're clearing up? You're a good boy, Harry. Here, I'll show you." She glanced at the table, at the half-filled bowl that remained. "Whose cereal is this?"

"Louis'."

"Louis! Come and finish your breakfast! Here, Harry. This is the pantry. The cereal boxes go on the bottom shelf, where there's space."

Harry put two of the boxes away, and went back to get the third. Meanwhile, Louis, dressed in his school uniform this time, had returned to the room. "But it's all gone soggy now," he complained, poking the spoon at the contents.

"You always say that. I don't know why you can't finish your breakfast in one go. Hurry up, now. I'm driving you to school today, because I have to take Harry to the principal's office, so you've got a bit of extra time, but don't dawdle." 

Louis sat down and, pulling faces, began to eat the rest of his cereal.

"Do you have a schoolbag, Harry?" asked Ms Curtis.

"No. It got left behind."

"I've got a spare one which you can have. Another boy left it here."

"Do you only look after boys?"

"Yes. I don't want any boy-girl troubles. Come on. Let's fetch this schoolbag."

It was a red backpack. It seemed quite new, so Harry was happy. It had a pencil-case inside. That was good, because Harry didn't have any pens, either. He looked through the contents of the pencil case. Everything he would need was there. But he needed notepaper.

He went to find Ms Curtis. "Ms Curtis, I need paper to write on."

"Of course you do. Why don't you go ask one of the boys to share some of theirs and I'll buy you your own today. I have to remember to get a list of schoolbooks for your grade, too, when we're at the principal's office. Hopefully you can use Liam's books from last year. I'll get all that organised for you. You'll have to share with another student for today."

"Okay," said Harry. He went back into the TV room, where both Zayn and Liam were now seated on the couch, watching TV. "Hi, Liam," he said.

"Oh, hi, Harry."

"Ms Curtis said for one of you to lend me some paper to write on."

"Have some of mine," said Liam, zipping open his backpack at his feet. He opened a file that was inside and took several sheets of paper out. "Here."

"Thanks."

"Do you like cartoons?"

"I wasn't allowed to watch TV at my last place," admitted Harry.

"Well, sit down. You can watch TV here. We always watch it in the mornings."

Harry sat down on the second couch. Just then, Louis came into the room. He flung himself down on the couch beside Harry. 

"Hello, squirt."

"I'm not a squirt."

"No, you're an Old English Sheepdog," laughed Louis, reaching out to put a hand in Harry's hair. "Look at all this hair!"

Harry tried to duck away but Louis followed him. "Don't tease me."

"No, it's cool. I like your hair. Oh, it's so soft." Louis trailed his hand through Harry's hair. "But I bet school makes you get it cut. They don't let boys have long hair."

"I like your hair," Harry offered. Louis' fringe was all spiky this morning, not squashed down by a cap. 

"My hair's a pan in the butt. It's so boringly straight. I have to put gel in it to get it like this." Louis' other hand came around, and he pushed it into Harry's hair with enough vigour to cause Harry to fall backwards on the couch. "Curly, curly, curly!" he cried, ruffling Harry's hair.

"It tickles!" Harry tried to shove him off. They fought amongst the couch cushions, both of them giggling, one of Louis' hands ghosting down to tickle Harry around the neck.

Ms Curtis came into the room. "Louis, leave Harry alone. Where's Niall? Louis, do you have your schoolbag ready?"

"I'll just get it." Louis jumped up and disappeared.

"Niall's finishing homework," said Liam.

"The naughty boy. He should have done it yesterday." Ms Curtis went back out of the room again. "Niall!"

Harry rubbed at his hair to get it into some semblance of order. He didn't have a hairbrush; he'd lost his last one and there hadn't been much point in getting another because he hardly used it anyway. His hair went its own way no matter what he tried to do to it.

Eventually, Louis came back, and so did Ms Curtis, dragging Niall by the sleeve. "Everyone, get into the van. We're going to be late."

Ms Curtis drove a minivan. The other boys all scrambled for the front seat. Liam arrived first and, grumbling that Liam always got the front seat, the other boys climbed into the back. Harry was last in because he didn't want to take anyone's seat. He found himself seated next to Niall again, with Louis and Zayn in the rear seat. Louis and Zayn began to wrestle before they were even out of the driveway.

"Boys! Seatbelts on! Louis, did you take your medication this morning?"

"Yes."

"You don't seem very settled."

"That's because I don't have ADHD. So it's obviously not going to work."

Louis and Ms Curtis argued with each other some more.

"Louis doesn't think he's got ADHD," Niall whispered to Harry. "He's not happy about taking medication."

Harry didn't like taking medication either, so he could understand Louis' objection.

They pulled up into a space between cars on the side of the road outside the school. Harry's first impression was of a large fence. The fence must go all the way around the school, he thought. There were children pouring into the school gates from a bus. Cars were all over the place.

They all got out of the minivan and Ms Curtis said, "Remember, Louis, straight home from school. You're grounded."

"But I've got football practise."

"Straight after football practise, then. I know what time you finish, young man. I'll have my eye on the clock. Now, off you all go. Not you, Harry. You're coming with me."

Harry followed Ms Curtis through the school, through throngs of students everywhere, to the principal's office. The secretary greeted Ms Curtis by name; obviously she came here a lot. She handed Ms Curtis Harry's class schedule.

"I'm going to buy him the proper uniform today," said Ms Curtis. "He won't get into trouble?"

"Of course not. We understand. I'll just let Mr Hooper know you're here."

The school bell sounded. Soon afterwards, they were ushered into the principal's office. Mr Hooper looked over Harry's school record. "You were a good student until recently," he observed. "What happened?"

"I don't know," said Harry. He knew, but he didn't feel like sharing.

"Well, I expect to see an improvement in these grades. You're obviously not stupid. You need to put your head down, listen to your teachers, get your homework done."

"Yes, sir."

"As for your hair, it's awfully untidy. Perhaps you could get him a haircut?" said Mr Hooper to Ms Curtis.

"It's on the list of things I have to do," said Ms Curtis.

Mr Hooper and Ms Curtis talked a bit more before Ms Curtis stood up to leave. "I'll see you after school," she told Harry and Harry nodded, biting his lip. He stared down at the map of the school he'd been given while Mr Hooper talked to one of the administration assistants to get her to take Harry up to his classroom. Harry trailed after the administration assistant through the now almost-silent corridors. First she showed him to his locker, and where to put his bag. Harry got out his paper and pencil case and then they went to his classroom.

Harry looked nervously at the rows of students as he entered the classroom. They all stared at him, distracted from their work by the opening of the door. The administration assistant spoke to the teacher, and then left.

"So, Harry," said the teacher. "I'm Mr Foster. You can sit at the front desk there."

"I don't have any books. But I'm getting some."

"That's okay. You can share with another student for today. Everyone, this is Harry. Say hello."

"Hello, Harry," chorused the class.

"Take a seat, Harry."

Harry sat down. Someone giggled behind him and he turned around. It was a girl. She quickly looked away then looked back again. Harry smiled at her, hoping she was just being a giggly girl and not laughing at him. She smiled back.

"Harry needs to share someone's book."

"He can share with me," said the girl. 

"Thank you, Melody. Harry, take your chair up beside Melody and read with her."

Harry did so. Melody smiled at him again. "I like your hair," she said.

"They're going to make me get it cut."

"Never mind. I'll still like it, anyway."

Some of Harry's anxiety dropped away. It was nice to meet a friendly face straight away. Harry didn't mind that it was a girl. Girls had always liked him, for some reason. He got on well with both girls and boys. Maybe this school wouldn't be so bad, after all.

***

School went well, although as he expected, the work was hard. He was so far behind. He found the boys at the breaks and felt happy he had someone to hang out with. Zayn and Liam accepted him hanging out with them without question. The only unpleasant thing that happened in the day occurred as he was walking to meet up with the boys at lunchtime. A large boy with a crewcut planted himself in front of him. "You're new," he said.

Harry didn't answer but stared at the boy.

"All new boys have to pay me ten pounds, otherwise they get beaten up."

"I don't want to pay you."

"Trust me. I'll beat you up. Ask anyone. Nat Pringle's my name. You ask, and have that ten pounds for me tomorrow, girly-hair." He shoved Harry aside and strode off.

Harry didn't have ten pounds. He didn't have any money at all. He found Niall and the others and told them what had happened.

"He's a real bully, that Nat," said Niall. "He did that to all of us."

"What did you do?"

"We all paid up," said Liam.

"I don't have ten pounds. Would he really beat me up?"

"He might," said Niall. "Although I think he's on his last chance so he'd have to be really careful when he beat you up. You'd be safe at school, for instance."

"He'll get you when you're walking home," said Zayn.

"You can borrow off me... no wait," said Niall. "I've already spent my pocket money this week."

"I've got ten pounds I could lend you," said Liam, "but you'd have to pay me back out of your allowance."

"I don't want to pay him," said Harry.

"Harry, you have to."

But Harry stubbornly shook his head. "I'm not going to."

Liam looked worried. "We should tell Louis."

Louis was in Year Six. Liam explained he hung out with the big kids down on the lawn at the far side of the school. They made their way over, but couldn't see him anywhere on the lawn. Liam asked a boy where he was. The boy pointed to the bushes. 

"What's he doing in the bushes?" wondered Niall. They went over. Sure enough, there was Louis, lying full stretch on his stomach underneath a bush. Zayn kicked his foot. 

"Go away," came Louis' voice from underneath the bush.

"Nat's caught Harry," said Zayn.

Louis scrambled out from underneath the bush. He had binoculars around his neck. "What?"

"What are you doing?" asked Liam.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're spying on people."

"I'm a top secret agent," Louis told him. "There's a spy in the area and I have to track him down."

"Where did you get the binoculars from?"

"They're Adam's."

"Well, anyway," said Zayn, "Nat's caught Harry. He wants Harry to give him ten pounds tomorrow."

Louis shook his head at Harry. "I could tell you were going to be trouble."

"It's not my fault!"

"Of course it isn't. Nat's just a big baby bully. Don't worry, I'll sort him out. He won't harrass you again."

"Really?"

"He's scared of me," said Louis. "I broke his face with my skateboard."

"Don't get into a fight," Liam warned Louis. "You're on your last chance, just like Nat is."

"I won't get into a fight. I'll just tell him to leave Harry alone. Now go away. I'm busy." Louis crawled back under the bush.

"Can I look through the binoculars?" asked Niall.

"If you're quick."

Niall threw himself down and crawled under the bush. Now there were two sets of legs poking out from underneath. "These are awesome binoculars," came Niall's voice. "Harry, get down here. Have a look."

Niall had crawled in right next to the bush's roots, so Harry crawled alongside Louis' other side. Niall handed the binoculars across. "There's a group of girls doing handstands on the other side of the lawn. They think no one's close enough to see them properly. Have a look."

Harry put the binoculars up to his eyes and trained them in the direction Niall pointed. Students jumped into his field of vision, close enough to touch. He found the girls, who were tucking their skirts under the legs of their underwear and doing handstands. Harry caught a flash of a girl's underwear.

"Come on, give it back," said Louis. "I didn't give you the binoculars so you could perve on birds. They're for serious business."

Harry turned to find Louis looking at him, an annoyed expression on his face.

"But you can see their underwear," said Niall.

"You can see girls' underwear in the store if you want to see girls' underwear," said Louis holding out a hand to Harry. Harry handed the binoculars back.

"That's not the same thing," said Niall.

"Niall, are you a pervert?"

"Yes."

"Kids," muttered Louis.

"All I'm saying is, if I had a pair of binoculars, I'd be looking at the girls," said Niall, wriggling backwards to get out.

"What about you, Curly, are you into girls?" Louis focussed his whole attention on Harry. They were very close. Their legs were touching. 

"I've had lots of girlfriends," said Harry.

"Really?" Louis looked interested. "How far have you gone?"

"Mostly just kissing. There was this one girl at my last school, she was in Year Six, she let me touch her breast. Through her shirt."

Louis grinned at him. "I could tell you're a heartbreaker."

"There's this girl in my class. Her name's Melody. I think she likes me."

"Melody James? She's really popular. "

Someone kicked Harry's foot. "Harry, are you coming?" said Zayn. "We're going back now."

Louis winked at Harry. Harry smiled back, and wriggled out from under the bush. 

"We'd better get out of here before the teacher on duty sees us," said Liam. "This area's out of bounds."

"I'll talk to Nat," Louis called from under the bush. 

"Thanks, Louis," said Harry.

"You won't have to pay him a cent. I guarantee it."

***

Louis must have forgotten to speak to Nat, though, because the next day at school Nat came up to Harry in the first break.

"Got my ten pounds?" he said to Harry, looming over him. He was the tallest boy in the school.

"No," said Harry, confused. Louis must have forgotten.

Except he obviously hadn't. "You're from the losers' home," said Nat. "Louis talked to me yesterday. I'm not scared of him. You can tell him that. Where's my ten pounds?"

"I don't have it."

"Prepare to be beaten up." Harry flinched but Nat only laughed. "Not now. When you least expect it. Or get me that money by the end of the day. Borrow it from one of your loser brothers. Better still, go dob on me to Louis. See what good that does you."

So Nat wasn't as scared of Louis as the other boys had made him out to be. Harry left and made his way to the area where the other boys hung out. He told them about his latest encounter with Nat.

"You're kidding," said Zayn. "Louis talked to him and everything and he still wants the money?"

"He says he's not scared of Louis."

"Did Louis skateboard to school today?" Zayn asked the others.

"I was late, and he left after me this morning, so I don't know," said Liam. "He can beat Nat with his bare hands, though." But he sounded doubtful. Louis was small for a Sixth Year. Liam was taller than him and he was only in the Fifth Year.

"Not when Nat's got his gang around him he can't," said Niall.

Harry said, "He said he'd get me when I least expect it."

"On the way home from school. It's always on the way home from school."

"We'll walk home with you," said Liam. Niall had walked with Harry to school to show him the way and Harry was incredibly grateful to all the boys if they'd walk home with him. He didn't want to be beaten up. It had never happened before, but he'd seen it happen to other kids.

"Safety in numbers," agreed Zayn. "If there's four of us, he'll be less likely to take you on."

"We can't always walk home with Harry, though. We've all got extra-curricular activities after school. We're not always leaving at the same time."

"I'll get Louis to talk to him again," said Zayn.

"I don't think we should bring Louis into it," said Liam. "If his earlier conversation didn't work, Nat's not going to listen to him now, and it'll only get Louis in trouble because he'll beat Nat up or something. No, I vote we all stick together. We'll be okay."

So, after school, Harry went to the Year Five locker area and waited for the boys to fetch their schoolbags. Soon, they were walking the route towards home.

"We left quickly," said Zayn. "Hopefully Nat will be behind us. Maybe he's got detention or something."

But it turned out not to be the case. As they went down a street, Nat jumped out of an alleyway and dragged Harry in.

"Leave him alone!" the boys shouted.

Nat had three friends with him. "Deal with them," he instructed his friends, and each boy found himself grabbed in a chokehold by Nat's friends. "Now, Harry, I believe your name is. It seems you haven't learned your lesson. I still want that ten pounds and you're going to give it to me tomorrow, aren't you? In fact, it'll be ten pounds once a week for the next month, because you disobeyed me."

"But that's his whole allowance!" said Niall.

"I don't care. You have to pay up, Harry. Or else, I won't only beat up you, I'll beat up each of your loser friends. Do you get how serious I am?"

"Yes," said Harry, thinking it best to go along with Nat for now.

"Good. First payment tomorrow. After that, once a week for the next month. You'll do it. You don't want your friends hurt, do you?" Nat shoved him roughly into the wall and beckoned to his friends, who left off the boys and disappeared into the street with Nat. The boys all gathered around Harry, rubbing their necks. 

"You okay?" they asked Harry.

"Yeah. But I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Four weeks of payment," said Niall. "That's harsh."

"He's going to have to do it," said Liam. "Maybe we could each pay Harry a portion of our allowance. After all, he threatened all of us."

"I'm not scared of him," said Zayn defiantly.

"Zayn, are you crazy? This guy doesn't care. If he gets kicked out of school he'll probably be happy because he hates school. We can't expect him not to follow through."

"We should talk to Louis again," said Niall. "He'll know what to do."

"I don't like leaving it all on Louis. That's not fair either. Is it better that Louis gets beaten up instead of us?"

"Of course not. But Louis' smart. He'll know what to do."

So when they arrived home they all stowed their schoolbags and sat on the front steps waiting for Louis. Ms Curtis came out to see what they were doing.

"Don't you want snacks? Niall, you're always ravenous after school."

"We have to wait for Louis," said Niall.

"He'd better be home in the next five minutes, otherwise I'll ground him for even longer." Ms Curtis went back into the house.

Within five minutes, Louis turned up, rolling down the street on his skateboard. He stared at them all waiting on the front steps for him.

"What are you lads doing?" he asked, flicking his skateboard up with his shoe into his hand.

"We need to talk to you," said Liam.

"What have I done this time?"

"Nothing. It's about Harry. And Nat. I thought you talked to him?"

"Nat?" Louis came up and stood on the bottom step, looking them over. "I did talk to him. I told him to stay away from Harry."

"Well, he bailed all of us up in the Sutherland Street alley this afternoon."

"He's not kidding," said Zayn. "His mates had us in chokeholds."

"He says I owe him for the next month, now," said Harry.

Louis shook his head. "I talked to him. He shouldn't be on your case."

"Obviously he is," said Liam.

"What do you expect me to do about it? Beat him up?"

"No, I understand that'll get you into trouble. But you need to talk to him again. He was serious this afternoon. He threatened all of us."

"I hate him," said Louis. "Why's he got to pick on kids, anyway?"

"It's because of us," said Niall. "Because we're from the foster home. He'd have listened to you otherwise, but he just hates us. I don't know why."

"He's a dickhead," said Louis. He rubbed a hand over his spiky hair, the other still holding his skateboard. "Still, he won't do anything at school. He's not that stupid."

"But he could easily get us after school," said Liam. "He's got three mates who will back him up."

"I'll talk to him again tomorow. I don't know what else I can do but threaten him and hope he listens."

Ms Curtis came out again. "What are you all talking about so earnestly? Oh good, Louis, you're home. Come inside everyone, I've made a batch of oatmeal biscuits."

"Yummy!" said Niall.

Everyone jumped up and followed Ms Curtis inside. 

***

As usual, Harry woke up in the middle of the night, fear coursing through him. He didn't spare a second thought; he simply gathered up his blankets and crawled quietly under Louis' bed where he felt much safer. He hoped Louis never found out. It would be hard to explain. Once again, with the coming of the morning light, he made his way back to his own bed, able to sleep properly now. 

Ms Curtis was forced to wake him up again. He sat up after she left, and looked around sleepily. Louis was making his bed. He was dressed already. 

He noticed Harry. "You're a real sleepyhead, aren't you?"

Harry kicked the covers off. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Not very talkative in the mornings?"

"I'm tired," said Harry.

"You've slept eleven hours. How can you be tired?"

"I don't sleep very well."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Harry didn't bother to change, but went out to breakfast in his pyjamas. Niall was just finishing his breakfast. "Hurry up," he told Harry. "I want to get to school before the bell."

"I know the way now," said Harry. "You don't have to wait for me."

"But I don't like walking to school by myself. Liam and Zayn always leave at the last minute because they watch cartoons but I like to be a bit early."

"That's because he doesn't want Ms Curtis to find out he hasn't done his homework again," Zayn called from the couch.

"Shut up, Zayn!"

"I'll eat quickly," Harry told him. Niall had gone out of his way to be friendly to Harry, it was the least he could do. 

Ms Curtis came into the room. "Here's your jumper, Liam. I patched up the hole. Why is there an empty bowl on the table? Who hasn't cleaned up after themselves?"

"Louis!" chorused Zayn and Liam.

"Louis, get out here!"

Louis appeared in the passage entrance. He had his backpack on and skateboard in his hand. "What?"

"Put your breakfast bowl in the sink."

"But I haven't eaten breakfast."

"Then come and eat it. I'm not driving you to school."

"I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. You're not going to school without a proper meal."

"But I want to go to school now!" complained Louis.

"You've got time to have breakfast, young man, and you're having breakfast. Sit down. What do you want?"

Louis dropped his gear to the floor and came over reluctantly. "I'm not hungry."

"Museli," decided Ms Curtis. "It's the healthiest option. Lots of wholesome oats and fruit." She tipped museli into a bowl and finished it off with milk.

"That's too much."

"Sit down and eat it."

"Thought you'd be happy I want to go to school early," muttered Louis, sitting at the table and stabbing with a spoon at the museli in his bowl.

"I'm happiest when you're fit and healthy," said Ms Curtis. "Zayn, help me with your bed. It's your turn for your sheets to be washed." She left the room, with Zayn following.

Niall leaned across Harry to Louis. "Are you scared of Nat? Is that why you're not hungry?"

"I'm not scared of anyone," said Louis.

"I'm scared of him."

"You're younger. You're allowed to be."

The way he answered made Harry believe Louis was actually scared, he was just hiding it. He wished he wasn't causing so much trouble for everyone. "I don't want you to have to fight him," Harry told Louis.

"Nor do I, Curly. He'd better listen to me, this time."

"If you get caught fighting again you'll be expelled," said Niall.

"I know that, Niall. Shut up about it." Louis pushed his chair back. "I've had enough. I'm just not hungry." He picked his bowl up and took it into the kitchen. Harry followed him with his empty bowl. He came upon Louis emptying the rest of his food into the bin.

"I'm sorry," said Harry to him.

"It's not your fault. Just stay out of his way, okay?"

Harry did. At school, he checked corridors carefully before walking down them. He wondered if Louis had talked to him yet, and how it went. He couldn't venture into the Year Six area and ask him; Nat might see him. He thrummed all day with nerves.

All four boys had arranged to walk home together again. They were only partway down the street from the school before Liam said, "I have a bad feeling. Let's run."

"And avoid the alleyways!" added Zayn.

They all ran, backpacks bouncing on their backs, all the way home. They sighed with relief when they made it. Panting and puffing, they made their way into the house.

"Janet, what are you doing here?" said Liam, the first to enter. Harry glanced around him to see a teenage girl with blond hair and dressed in the high school uniform in the middle of the hallway.

"Ms Curtis had to take Louis to hospital," she said, matter of factly. "So I'm babysitting."

They clamoured with questions. What happened to Louis? Why was he at the hospital? Was he okay?

Janet held her hands up. "I don't think it's serious. He just hurt his hand, or something."

"Probably on Nat's face," said Niall.

"Ms Curtis didn't say anything about a fight."

"Good. Then he won't be expelled. What's there to eat?"

Harry made his way to his room to stow his backpack, feeling horribly guilty. It was obvious Louis' hurt hand had something to do with the talk he'd been going to have with Nat. Harry hoped he hadn't got into a fight. He got changed out of his school-clothes, worrying. He didn't go out to the kitchen; he wasn't hungry. Instead, he pulled his homework out and sat at the single desk in the room.

But he couldn't concentrate. It didn't help that Janet kept checking up on him by asking him if he was okay, did he want any help? Obviously she took her babysitting duties seriously. 

After an hour, he'd completed only ten sums for his Maths homework. That should have taken him fifteen minutes. He pulled out his English homework. Just as he opened his book--it turned out Liam's books from last year were the same ones for every subject except Science--he heard the front door open. Homework forgotten, he dashed out to the main area. Louis was back. Ms Curtis, carrying his backpack and skateboard, led him into the house.

"What happened? Are you all right?" The boys had all gathered in the room.

"He's okay," said Ms Curtis. "He broke a finger playing some silly game at school."

Harry looked at Louis. He had plaster on his left hand down to the little finger. The boys all crowded around him, their relief evident as they patted him on the back. Harry stayed back, watching Louis. Louis didn't smile; he looked sort of down. He didn't say much; just that he was okay now. They'd done an x-ray and found that he'd broken his finger.

"Thank you, Janet, for coming over at such short notice," said Ms Curtis, putting Louis' things down. "I'll just get my purse out."

"No problem, Ms Curtis."

Louis broke free of the boys, picked up his backpack, and went up the passage. Harry followed him. Louis walked into their room and dropped his backback by the bed.

"It was Nat, wasn't it?" said Harry. "He broke your finger."

"Forget it."

"I can't. It's my fault."

Louis whirled on him. "It's not your fault. Nat's been a bully for years; none of this is your fault. But I have to tell you, he isn't listening to me. You're on your own with this one, kid."

"Should I tell Ms Curtis, or one of the teachers at school?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't, but that's just me. I think he'll just come after you harder, if he knows you told. I'm sorry I couldn't help you." 

Harry thought again that he seemed really down about it. "Did he ask you to pay him when he first came here?" At Louis' nod, Harry added, "Did you pay?"

"No. But back then Nat only hung out with one other guy so he wasn't as scary. Now he's got a little gang. And I was lucky to win that fight against him. Gave him a broken nose. He took me on when I had my skateboard with me as a weapon. Stupid, really. He's stupid, but he's dangerous."

Harry wondered if that was the real reason Louis carried his skateboard everywhere with him. He said, "Did you have your skateboard today when he fought you?"

"He didn't fight me. He got his mates to hold me down while he broke my finger."

Just then the other boys came into the room. "Really?" asked Zayn. "What a coward."

"Did this happen at school?" asked Liam. "Why didn't you tell a teacher?"

"I fight my own battles." Louis shrugged. "They wouldn't have listened anyway. Not with my rep."

"That's so unfair."

"It's the truth, though."

"Dammit, if only I was older," said Zayn fiercely. "I wouldn't be afraid of him then. I could back you up."

"We could all back you up," said Niall. "If we were older." He patted Louis on the shoulder. Louis was small for a Year Six; Niall, who was also small for his age, was nearly as tall as him.

"Don't feel bad for me, lads. I can look after myself," said Louis. Harry thought he saw a flash of doubt in his eyes, before it was gone, smoothed over with his usual cocky face. "It's Harry I'm worried about."

"We'll just have to pay Nat," decided Liam. "Right, lads? We'll all chip in. That's two pound fifty each, per week, for the next month."

"No, it's two pounds each," said Louis. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

That was when Harry knew Louis was really scared. He was going to help pay off Nat. The boys protested that he'd already done enough, but Louis insisted. He fished two pounds out of his pocket and gave it to Harry. His fingers brushed Harry's palm. Harry took the money wordlessly.

"Why are you all crowded in here, talking so seriously? Ms Curtis was suddenly in the doorway. She noticed Louis handing the money to Harry. "Louis?"

"I lost a bet," said Louis.

"How many times do I have to tell you, no gambling? Harry, give it back to him."

Biting his lip, Harry handed it back. Reluctantly, Louis took it.

"Good," said Ms Curtis. "That's your last warning, Louis. Next time, you're grounded. Now come on, boys. Time to do your homework."

The other boys all grumbled but left the room. Ms Curtis looked at Louis, and sighed. "You're such a trouble-magnet. Why can't you behave yourself? I'm sure you were fighting today despite how much you've denied it."

It was unfair, but Louis just had to take it. Harry wanted to speak up, but knew Louis would be upset at him. Louis went to his backpack and pulled out his homework. "Are you using the desk?" he asked Harry.

"I'll go out to the meals table," said Harry.

"Don't be silly, Harry," said Ms Curtis, "Louis can do his homework at the table. I want to keep an eye on him anyway."

"I'm not going to do anything else," said Louis.

"You'll give me grey hairs, young man. Hurry up, now, while I cook dinner." She left.

Harry looked, stricken, at Louis. He'd got him into trouble, again. 

"Don't look like that, like you think I'm going to hit you," said Louis.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. It's not your fault. It's just your bad luck you ended up here." He came forward and once again handed Harry the two pounds. "Ask Ms Curtis for an advance on your allowance. We get paid it every Saturday, and you're a good kid, so she won't mind it being early."

"Thank you, Louis." Harry tried to express all of his feelings with the words. 

Louis smiled weakly at him, before leaving the room with his books. 

***

By the next morning, all the boys had given Harry two dollars, and Harry had secured an advance on his allowance. Now he had the money to pay Nat. He hated Nat for scaring all the boys, for hurting Louis, for getting Louis into trouble. He found he hated Nat more than he hated his last foster family, the ones who beat him and locked him up in cupboards. At least he'd deserved some of the beatings, for not being a good enough boy. He hadn't done any wrong to Nat, however.

Harry brushed Niall off that morning. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. As he walked to school, he tried to think of a better solution than paying Nat off. He couldn't. It was too much risk. He wished Nat would do something that would get him expelled. He wished hard for it.

Nat and his gang found him with the other boys at break. "Got my money?" he leered.

Harry fished the money out of his pocket and handed it over, as the boys looked on in silence.

"You should have heard Louis shout when I broke his finger," said Nat. "He nearly cried. What a baby."

"Louis is brave and you're nothing but a hateful bully," said Harry heatedly.

"Do you want a broken finger as well?" Harry said nothing, just stared at him. "Didn't think so," said Nat mockingly. He turned away. "Come on, lads, lets go to the canteen. I've suddenly got the money for a snack."

Nat and his friends left. Niall patted Harry comfortingly on the shoulder. "Only three more times you'll have to do it," he said.

***

The next day was a Saturday. Niall had told him they could sleep in a bit on Saturday, which Harry was grateful for, as his sleep was very disturbed sleeping under Louis' bed. He'd fallen asleep in class the prevous day and everyone had laughed. 

Still, even with a sleep-in, Ms Curtis still had to wake him. "You sleep like the dead, Harry," she said to him. "Come on, have your breakfast and get dressed, we're going out to get you a haircut."

"You won't cut it too short?" said Harry.

"No, I want to keep those lovely curls. Just not quite so many of them."

Mollified, Harry got dressed. All the boys except Louis were watching cartoons. He could hear the sounds of Louis' skateboard wheels outside. Sure enough, as he reached the meals table he saw Louis, on the back verandah, doing tricks on his skateboard. Harry made himself a bowl of cereal and watched Louis. Louis kept making his skateboard jump and spin, landing perfectly every time. He wore a beanie and jeans and a dark hoodie jacket, zipped up.

After Harry finished breakfast, Ms Curtis told them all to go and put on a jacket, because they were going out. Everyone groaned and asked if they could stay home and watch cartoons instead, but Ms Curtis was insistent. "Christmas is in two weeks," she said. "You can all do your shopping." She went over to the door to fetch Louis. Harry went back to his room and grabbed a beanie. It looked cold outside. Puffs of white breath had been coming from Louis' mouth.

They arrived at the shopping mall and Ms Curtis parked. They clambered out of the van. "Now, you're to stick with me," said Ms Curtis. "No running off. Do you hear me, Louis?"

"Why pick on me?"

"Because you're the one who does most of the running off."

"Zayn ran off last time, too."

"Only because you egged him on."

"Can I run up to the entry, at least? I want to look in the pet shop."

Ms Curtis sighed. "Very well. I'll fetch you from the pet shop. Don't get run over."

"I'm coming, too," said Zayn, and followed Louis as he streaked away.

"Louis, watch out for the cars!" shouted Ms Curtis, as Louis darted around a reversing vehicle. "That boy," she said to herself. "Come on, boys. We'll go to the hairdressers first. Liam, you could do with a haircut, too. It's getting a little unruly."

They picked up Louis and Zayn in the pet shop which was just inside the mall. The display windows were full of glass cubicles in which were scattered various kittens and puppies. They made Harry feel sad. Inside, Louis was with a shop assistant and had a hold of one of the puppies.

"Can we get a puppy?" asked Louis.

"No. How many times do I have to tell you? You boys are a handful enough as it is."

Louis held the puppy out to Harry. "Look, Harry. Isn't she cute?"

Ms Curtis intervened. She took hold of the puppy and handed it back to the shop assistant. "I should know better than to let you come to the pet shop," she said. "Come on. We're off to the hairdressers. Any cheek from anyone, and I'll make you get a haircut."

"You can be cheeky, then, Harry," said Louis. "You're already getting your hair cut."

"Louis," warned Ms Curtis.

"How's your finger?" said Harry to Louis. 

"Sore," said Louis, holding up the cast. They'd all signed it last night; Harry had drawn a smiley face next to his name. 

"How long does it have to be on for?"

"Dunno. Six weeks? I'm not allowed to get it wet. I have to have baths instead of showers."

At the hairdressers they had to wait. They took up all the available seats.

"Sit quietly, everyone," said Ms Curtis.

Zayn began tickling Niall. Louis pulled a yoyo out of his pocket. "Watch this. Around the world." He threw it towards Liam's head. It stopped on its string just before it hit him. 

"Don't, you'll hit me," said Liam.

"I'm the yoyo master. I can do anything with a yoyo."

"If I move suddenly-"

"Don't move. Then you'll be safe."

"Louis," said Ms Curtis warningly. Louis laughed, turned, and flung the yoyo at Harry's head. Harry snapped his head back. It looked like it was going to hit him right in the face.

"I won't hurt you, silly," said Louis. "Stay still."

"Louis, stop throwing that yoyo at people's heads."

"But it's fun."

"You could put someone's eye out. Stop it, or I'll confiscate it."

Louis stopped. He occupied himself with bouncing the yoyo up and down its string.

"Ma'am, we're ready for you," said a hairdresser to Ms Curtis. 

"Just these two boys. Harry, go and sit in the chair." Harry obeyed, clambering up into the big leather chair and removing his beanie.

"My goodness, it's been a while since you've had a haircut," said the hairdresser.

"Don't cut it too short," warned Harry.

"How much? This much?" She gathered up a chunk of his hair and put her fingers against it. Harry nodded. It would still leave him with enough hair for winter. He watched as the first locks were cut from his head. He felt a little sad, at seeing his hair fall onto the plastic cape around his neck. It took a long time. Longer than Liam took to get his cut, even though he started after Harry. Harry could hear Louis getting into trouble for playing with scissors. He looked in the mirror and saw Louis standing at the counter with a pair of scissors in his hand. Ms Curtis threatened him with a haircut and he sat back down. He couldn't sit still, though. He kept getting up, and Ms Curtis kept dragging him back down. Harry thought Louis couldn't help it. He had a restless air about him. Even when he was sitting quietly doing his homework he was fidgeting, looking up, distracted.

"Oh look," said the hairdresser as she cut the last of his long locks from his head. "There's a handsome boy under all that hair. Ma'am," she addressed Ms Curtis, "you've got a beautiful little boy."

Harry blushed. Ms Curtis made him even more embarrassed by saying, "He is, isn't he?"

The hairdresser gushed over him a little more, then got out the blowdryer. Harry stared at his hair in the mirror. It was a lot shorter now. He could see the bottom of his ears.

Louis noticed, too. When Harry got up from the chair he looked him over critically. "Look, Harry's got ears!" he crowed.

"Of course he's got ears, Louis, don't be silly. How much is it for both haircuts?" Ms Curtis asked. She handed a fifty pound note over to the hairdresser and received some change. "That's it for you two for the next three months," she told Harry and Liam. Liam looked different without as much hair. He'd had it cut quite short. You could see all of his ears now. His hair had been about as long as Harry's was now.

Next they went Christmas shopping. "Let's split up," said Louis, when they reached the department store.

"I'm not having you running around all over the store without supervision," said Ms Curtis.

"But the others will see what I'm buying them."

"I've only got eight pounds," said Niall.

"So have I," said Harry.

"Just get me some sweets," said Louis. He turned to Harry. "It's my birthday on Christmas Eve. But you don't have to buy me anything for my birthday."

"You don't have to buy each other birthday presents," Ms Curtis agreed. "Just a Christmas present might be nice. It doesn't have to be anything special. Come along."

"No one had better get me socks," said Zayn.

"No socks for Zayn. Oh, Harry, do you believe in Father Christmas?"

"No, I know he's not real," said Harry. He hadn't gotten any presents last Christmas. Only his foster parents would be so mean.

Ms Curtis looked relieved. "That's good. Because I don't think it would stay a secret much longer around our house."

"We can still leave out biscuits and a beer for Santa, though, can't we?" said Louis.

"Beer?"

"That's what my other foster family left out last Christmas. My foster dad was a big beer drinker."

"Did you get presents last Christmas?" said Harry.

"Yeah, I got some stuff from charity," said Louis. "Didn't you?"

"No."

"No presents?"

"We didn't celebrate Christmas. We didn't even have Christmas lunch."

"That sounds like the worst foster home ever," said Louis. "I'd rather be beaten than miss out on Christmas."

They'd arrived at the sweets section. "Stay in the section," said Ms Curtis. "Don't run off."

Niall said, "Just so you all know, I like jellybeans. And snakes. And fruit rings. And toffee. And-"

"You like everything, Niall," said Zayn.

"I don't like chocolate-covered nuts."

"Gross," agreed Zayn.

Harry meandered down the aisles. He wanted to get Louis something special, to say thank you properly, but eight pounds wasn't going to go far. He gathered up several bags of sweets, before he saw the fancy biscuits. The pictures of biscuits on the containers looked delicious, but they were all too expensive. Then Harry saw a smaller tin. It said said, "Butter cookies." These looked especially tasty. There were four different kinds. He piled the sweets he'd selected on top of the tin of biscuits. He'd have to buy something for Ms Curtis, too, but that would have to wait until he got his allowance again.

Ms Curtis came down his aisle. "Are you okay, Harry?"

"Yes. I've finished shopping."

"I mean, at the house. Are you settling in all right? I shouldn't have put you in with Louis, I'm sorry about that. He's very disruptive."

"I like being in with Louis," said Harry. The older boy's presence was the only way he could get any sleep.

"You do? But he's so unbearably untidy."

"I don't mind. He keeps his stuff on his side of the room."

"You're very easy to please, Harry," said Ms Curtis. "I can't imagine why your last foster family had any problems with you."

"They were mean people," said Harry. "I'm glad I'm with you."

Ms Curtis looked pleased. "That's nice of you to say. I see your parents, when they were alive, brought you up very well."

"They did," said Harry nodding vigorously.

"You have a sister in care too, is that right? I'll have to try to set up a meeting between you. It wouldn't be good to lose touch with each other. Louis has four sisters spread across three different homes and it's a nightmare trying to get them organised."

"Ms Curtis, we've finished!" Niall and Liam, arms full of sweets, came into the aisle. 

"Good. Stay here. I'll round up Louis and Zayn."

Soon they were all together and heading for the checkouts. Louis looked at Harry's pile with interest. "Who are the biscuits for?" he said. "I hope they're for me. I love butter cookies."

"Don't be annoying, Louis," said Ms Curtis mildly.

Harry felt warm inside to hear Louis liked butter cookies. It was the right choice.

***

That night, Harry bolted awake from sleep. "Leave me alone!" His cry echoed around the room. He panted, getting his bearings. The dream had been so real. His former foster father had been standing over him, with his belt in his hand. He'd whipped Harry. Harry could still feel the pain. Dreams weren't meant to be real, but the pain was.

"Harry?" Louis' voice came from the other side of the room. "Are you okay?"

Harry's heart began to beat fast with embarrassment. He didn't want Louis to hear how weak he was. "I'm fine," he said.

"You were shouting."

Harry sighed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Why were you shouting?"

"No reason."

"There has to be a reason." Harry watched as Louis' dark shape sat up in bed. "Did you have a nightmare?" Harry didn't answer. "You did, didn't you? What was it about?"

"Nothing."

Suddenly Louis was coming over to his bed. Was he mad? Harry clutched tightly at Monkey. But Louis only put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Lie down. Jeez, you're really shaken up, aren't you? You're shivering."

Harry tried to relax and allowed Louis to push him down onto the bed. Louis patted his shoulder and took his hand away. He knelt down beside the bed. Harry could barely make out his features in the dark but he could tell from Louis' voice that he was looking at him with concern.

"Have you had nightmares before?" asked Louis.

"Not since I've been here."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. My chest hurts." His former foster father used to whip him across the ribs with his belt, hard enough to make bruises come up. He could feel the ache right now.

"Poor baby," said Louis softly. "One of my sisters used to get night terrors. It was really hard for her to sleep afterwards. She always called out for me. I was the only one who could calm her."

"You've got four sisters, haven't you?" 

"Yeah. They're all younger than me. Lottie, Fizzy, and the babies Daisy and Phoebe. I've only seen them once since I came here. They're all at different homes. The twins are together, though."

"What's it like, having four sisters?"

"It's nice. I used to help my mum out a lot with them. They were like my kids, too, especially the twins."

Harry knew he shouldn't ask, but he wanted to know. "What happened? Why are you here, in foster care?"

"Car crash," said Louis shortly. "Killed my parents. Well really, killed my mum and stepdad, but he was more of a dad to me than my real dad ever was. My real dad is still alive, but he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"My parents died in a car crash, too."

"What rotten luck. Both of us. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"One sister, Gemma. She's older than me."

"Do you get to see her much?"

"My last foster family didn't let me. They said it was too much trouble."

"Your last foster family were evil," said Louis decisively. "No Christmas, not letting you see your sister... what else did they do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did they hit you?"

"Yes," whispered Harry.

"Was that what your nightmare was about?"

"Yes."

"You're safe here," said Louis, touching him reassuringly on the shoulder again. "Ms Curtis is a good'un. No matter how annoyed I make her, she's never once hit me."

"Did you get hit before?"

"Yeah," said Louis dismissively. "Nothing too major. Just a clip around the ear, a smack on the arm. When I deserved it. Less often than I deserved it, really."

"I deserved it, too," whispered Harry.

"You? But you're so well-behaved."

"I'm clumsy. I dropped dishes. I tripped over and broke a vase. And also I sang too much."

"They hit you for singing?" said Louis.

"I didn't listen. I should have known better."

"Don't be ridiculous. People who hit you for singing are just evil. I'm sorry you had such evil foster parents. But at least you're away from them now."

"Yeah."

"Except in your nightmares, of course. How are you feeling now?"

"Better," said Harry. He'd stopped trembling.

"I could sing for you. That used to make my sister feel better."

"Okay."

Louis had a sweet, high voice. He sang a song Harry didn't know, about some people called Romeo and Juliet. Harry felt soothed by his tone and closed his eyes. Louis finished singing. "Still awake? I'll sing something else." Harry drifted to the sound of Louis' voice.

He didn't end up under Louis' bed that night. He slept right through.

 

***  
Soon enough, school was on holidays. It was nearly Christmas time. Harry had wrapped all his presents in paper Ms Curtis had supplied, and he'd made name tags at school for each of the boys, and Ms Curtis as well. He'd bought a chocolate bar for Ms Curtis at the convenience store one day after school.

They'd all helped dress the plastic Christmas tree that Ms Curtis put up. Ms Curtis was the only one tall enough to put the star on top but they'd helped with putting on the plastic baubles, the angels, the school Christmas projects. It was so good to have a Christmas tree again. Harry swelled with delight once they were standing back to watch the lights blink on and off around the decorations. Then they'd all piled their presents underneath. Over the next couple of days, Ms Curtis began putting presents down for them. It was hard not to want to pick up and feel and shake the presents, but Harry resisted. He knew most of them came from charity, but didn't mind.

Meanwhile, Louis had taken it upon himself to teach Harry to skateboard. They hung out in the afternoons in the driveway, Louis coaching Harry through baby steps on Louis' skateboard. Harry made sure to wear the helmet. He wasn't very good and hurting himself was a real possibility. When Ms Curtis saw them she just sighed, and muttered, "At least Louis' doing something positive for once." 

Louis was a very keen teacher. He made Harry practice over and over again. Harry, being a little clumsy, didn't think he'd ever get the hang of it, but he valiantly tried to do as Louis showed him; balance on the back wheels only, travel down the driveway without Louis holding onto him (that was hard, Harry kept falling off as soon as Louis took his hands from his waist), twist the board from side to side. It was Christmas Eve, Louis' birthday, before he quite suddenly learned to balance on the wobbly board. He pushed off from the ground and travelled all the way down to the end of the driveway without falling off and Louis cheered and clapped. "You've got it, now," he called from the other end of the driveway. "Now come back to me without falling off."

Harry made it back without stacking. He felt pleased with himself, and pleased at Louis' pleasure. Louis looked so wonderful when he smiled. Louis was all hyper, jumping up and down, slapping Harry on the back. "We'll make a skateboarder out of you yet. Keep practicing. I'm going to get Niall. He said I couldn't do it but I did."

Niall came and watched as Harry went back and forth along the driveway. Harry had to get off at one end and turn around on the board but otherwise he did it perfectly. Niall clapped him, too.

"I can't stand on that demon thing," he said. "It's the wobbliest skateboard I've ever seen."

"It does tricks better than anyone else's board, though," said Louis. "I'm going to keep teaching Harry and soon he'll be as good as me, you'll see."

The light was getting dim. Ms Curtis called them in for dinner. It was Louis' favourite; roast lamb and roasted vegetables. Earlier that day Louis had received a board game and a pair of winter gloves from Ms Curtis, and they'd watched a DVD--Spiderman-- which Louis picked out. Today was all about Louis, and he looked more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him, smiling lots and lots. After the birthday cake they played Louis' new board game, all of them around the meals table. It felt almost like a family, thought Harry, watching as Niall took his turn. He looked around at the boys. He liked all of them. Maybe they could really be brothers.

The brotherly feeling extended into the next day. At 6:00am, not long after he'd crawled back out from under Louis' bed, Niall woke him up jumping on top of him. "Come on, Harry, it's Christmas! Liam and Zayn are already waiting. Let's wake Louis."

Harry was tired, but it was Christmas! He leapt out of bed and ran over with Niall to jump on Louis' bed. Harry landed on his stomach and Niall on his pillow. "I'm awake, you fools!" Louis exclaimed. "Harry, get off me."

"Are you getting up?"

"Yeah, if you'll let me. Niall, get your knee out of my ear."

"Come on, come on!" shouted Niall. "There's presents!"

"I know there's presents. We've only seen them all week." But Louis looked excited too.

Just then Zayn came running into the room. "We've got more presents!" he said. "Ms Curtis must have been hiding some from us."

"More presents!" said Niall, climbing off Louis' bed. Harry crawled off Louis and went to fetch his slippers before following Niall out of the room. Louis came out behind him. They all went into the main room where Liam was waiting impatiently and planted themselves in front of the Christmas tree. Sure enough, they each had an extra present. Harry decided to save his extra present for last. 

Louis turned on the Christmas lights and they all began to unwrap their presents. Soon the room was filled with cries of "Awesome!" and other words of excitement. Harry unwrapped his presents from the boys first because he knew roughly what they would be. Four bags of assorted sweets later, he started on the rest of his pile.

"The biscuits were for me!" said Louis, looking at Harry.

"I thought you'd like them," said Harry shyly.

"I love them. I love butter biscuits."

Harry unwrapped his next present; it turned out to be a thick black duffel coat. He desperately needed a new coat as his current one was too small. This would be perfect; nice and warm. Next he unwrapped a set of plastic toy soldiers. Looking around, he saw all the boys had unwrapped toy soldiers. Good. They could have wars together. Finally, he unwrapped his extra present. It was a book on monkeys. He opened the first page. Ms Curtis had written something on the first page. Harry found it hard to read running writing but he thought it said Merry Christmas, love from Sandra Curtis; at least, that was her proper name so that was what she must have written. She must have bought it especially for him.

"Tony Hawk!" shouted Louis. "She got me Tony Hawk! Remember that skateboarder I was telling you about, Harry? This is is him." He waved a DVD about. "We'll have to watch it together."

"Cool," said Harry. "I got a book on monkeys."

"Oh, a book about your relatives?"

Harry threw balled up wrapping paper at him. Louis threw it back, but hit Zayn instead.

"Hey!" said Zayn. Grinning, Louis balled up more wrapping paper and threw it at Zayn. "I'm getting you back, Tommo." He flung his own wrapping paper at Louis. All of a sudden, wrapping paper was going everywhere as the others joined in. Harry grabbed a handful of paper and ran up to Louis, stuffing it down the back of his Spiderman pyjamas. They wrestled as debris flew around them.

"Boys! What are you doing?" Ms Curtis had entered the room.

"Having fun," said Niall. The paper war didn't stop. 

Louis wrestled Harry to the ground and shoved paper down the front of his pyjama shirt. One of the buttons popped off. Harry laughed and tried to shake Louis off. Louis began tickling him and Harry squirmed, giggling. "Stop it, Louis!"

"I'm going to tickle you to death," said Louis, his fingers moving down Harry's sides relentlessly. Harry was awfully ticklish and Louis had rucked up his shirt so that he could get his hands on skin. 

"Stop, stop!"

"Louis, stop that," said Ms Curtis. "You'll hurt your hand. Boys, all of you stop. You're making a terrible mess."

The fight began to dwindle away. Even Louis left off Harry. Harry sat up, pyjamas askew. They all sat amongst the debris, red-faced and panting. 

"Perfectly good wrapping paper," Ms Curtis said, but she didn't sound mad. "Come on, time to clean up."

"Thank you for my presents, Ms Curtis," said Harry, getting up. The boys chorused their thanks, too.

"You're welcome, boys. But there's still a present under the tree."

"That's for you," said Harry.

"Oh Harry. You didn't."

"It's nothing much," he said.

Ms Curtis came over and picked it up, unwrapping it. "Oh, lovely, Harry," she said, unveiling the chocolate bar.

"I know you like chocolate."

"I certainly do. Thank you so much." She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "Now, everyone, let's pick up this mess. I'll get a garbage bag."

They enthusiastically searched out every last bit of wrapping paper and put it in the garbage bag. Soon the room was looking much tidier, except for the presents scattered about.

"Let's play war," said Zayn.

"No, you'll have your breakfast first, before any games," said Ms Curtis.

"I've sure worked up an appetite," said Niall.

"Oh, you. You've always got an appetite."

***

Ms Curtis had a mum, and she came over for lunch. Ms Curtis had schooled them all to be on their best behaviour.

"What's she like?" Harry asked Liam, who as the longest standing resident had met Ms Curtis' mother before.

"She's stern. I don't think she approved of me."

"How many boys were living here then?"

"Just three of us. I don't think Ms Curtis wanted to take more than three, but the social workers made her. That's when we got Zayn, and Niall."

When Ms Curtis' mum arrived, Harry agreed with Liam that she was stern. All the boys lined up in the main room to greet her, and she touched each boy's hand and looked piercingly into them. 

"I hope you're all good boys," she said.

The boys looked at each other. They tried, but they weren't always good.

"Of course they're good boys, mum. I know how to raise kids."

"You've never raised any of your own."

"I can't mum, you know that." Ms Curtis put her arms around Louis and Liam. "But my boys are enough for me."

Ms Curtis' mum was carrying two presents. One she handed to Ms Curtis, the other she handed to the boys. "This is for all of you," she said.

"Who's going to unwrap it?" asked Liam.

"We can all unwrap it," said Louis. "Grab a corner."

They gathered around the rectangular package and eached grabbed a bit of paper. They tore it off. They had so much fun tearing off the paper the present was forgotten for a moment, until Niall exclaimed, "It's a jigsaw!"

"Five thousand pieces. It'll take days," said Zayn, sounding happy.

"Goody. Can we do it now?" asked Niall.

"Say thank you," said Ms Curtis.

"Thank you, ma'am, for the lovely jigsaw," said Liam, and the boys all followed suit.

"I'm glad you like it," said Ms Curtis' mum. 

"So can we do it?" said Niall. 

"I've got a card table," said Ms Curtis. "I'll set it up for you and you can start."

Soon they were all gathered around the card table, and Louis tipped the pieces of puzzle onto it. There were so many. There was no way they could spread them all out on the card table.

"We should be organised," said Liam. "First we'll do the edges, then we can each work on different parts of the puzzle."

"Some of us will have to work on the floor," Louis said.

"Whatever it takes," said Liam. 

"I bags doing the waterfall. If you see any bits of waterfall, put them in here," said Louis, waving the jigsaw's lid around.

"And put the sky into the bottom. The sky is always the hardest."

"Shouldn't we turn them all over the right way first?" said Niall.

"You can do that if you like. The rest of us will do the edges."

By the time lunch was ready, they'd nearly finished the edges, with only a few pieces still missing. Lunch was a roast again, chicken this time. None of the boys minded that they'd had a roast last night. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd had a roast, so two in two days was excellent as far as he was concerned.

Harry tried to be on his best behaviour. He sensed it was important to Ms Curtis to impress her mother. He didn't know why, he just knew that it was so. She'd taken a lot of time that morning to make sure each boy was dressed in his very best clothes. Harry's very best clothes weren't very good. He was wearing jeans and his blue jumper which didn't have any holes in it. And shoes. Ms Curtis had insisted on shoes, despite Louis' protests.

Harry heard a thunk under the table. He looked underneath. Louis had kicked his shoes off. Louis didn't like wearing shoes. He was next to Harry; Harry was crammed in between Niall and Louis so that Ms Curtis' mother could sit in Louis' spot.

"You'll get in trouble," Harry whispered in Louis' ear.

"You won't tell, will you? Here, help me with my cracker."

They all had Christmas crackers in front of them. Louis' cracker came apart with a satisfying rip and bang as Harry pulled on one end. Everyone began pulling crackers and putting on their crowns. Harry was lucky; he got to pull Niall's cracker too. Along with his own, that made three, more than his fair share. He fished inside the cardboard roll for his crown and put it on his head. It was bright red. His toy was a small plastic car, also red. 

"Vroom vroom!" said Harry, pushing his car along the table at Louis' plate. 

Louis had just finished helping Ms Curtis' mum with her cracker. Now he paid attention to his own. "I've got a car, too," he said, pulling it out. "Mine's black. It's a bandit's car."

"So's mine."

"Vroom! We're both bandits." They zoomed their cars around the table. 

"Bandits," said Ms Curtis' mum. "What are they teaching you boys?"

"You guys, I've got a police car!" exclaimed Niall. "I can chase you!"

"You'll never catch me!"

"Settle down, boys," said Ms Curtis, looking warningly at them. "You may begin eating now."

"Who wants to hear some jokes?" said Niall. "Ms Curtis, can you read mine out? I don't know all the words."

Ms Curtis didn't get much eating done at first. She was kept busy reading out jokes. Louis read some out, too. They were all ridiculous. Harry laughed at each one, even when they weren't funny. So did Niall. They both collapsed into a giggling fit.

"Niall, Harry. Concentrate on your meals."

Harry snuck a glace at Ms Curtis' mum, and wished he hadn't. She was looking at him disapprovingly. He turned away, back to his food.

"Can I get some more coke?" asked Louis.

"What have you done with the cup I gave you?"

"I drank it."

"Very well. One more, and then you're stuck with water. I don't want you getting hyperactive." Louis climbed down from his chair and went towards the kitchen. "Where are your shoes, young man?"

"They were hurting my feet," answered Louis. He was gone a long time. When he came back, he had a grin on his face.

"What were you up to?" asked Ms Curtis.

"Nothing." Louis took his seat beside Harry once again, and, bumping elbows with Harry, continued eating. At least, they tried to. It was hard, being so close together. Louis reached out for the salt and knocked Harry's forkful into his lap. Fortunately, he had a napkin on his lap.

"Louis!"

"Sorry, Harry."

"What happened?" Harry looked down at his lap and Ms Curtis guessed. "Here's another napkin, Harry. Wrap up the one you've got and put it on your bread-and-butter plate. It didn't stain your trousers, did it?"

"No," said Harry, wrapping up the napkin and checking.

Louis was being awfully clumsy. He kept knocking into Harry and giggling. "Can I have your last bit of potato?" he asked Harry.

"No."

"But I like it. It's all crispy. Crispy crunchy."

"I like it, too."

Louis reached out his fork to Harry's plate and snagged a couple of peas.

"Hey!" said Harry. He stabbed his own fork at Louis' chicken.

"Not my chicken!"

"Children," said Ms Curtis. Louis hopped up again. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To get another drink."

"Why are you drinking so much?"

"I don't know," giggled Louis.

"Just plain water this time, remember."

Again, Louis was gone an awfully long time. He came back with a glass of water, still giggling.

"You're an awfully giggly monster," observed Ms Curtis.

"I'm not a monster, I'm a bandit. Niall's caught me and this is my last meal before I hang."

"Oh my goodness," said Ms Curtis' mum.

"Louis, don't be so morbid."

"I'm the notorious Tommo the Terror, arch-enemy of the kingdom. But don't worry, I have a secret plan to escape from jail before I hang."

"Louis, why are you slurring?" said Ms Curtis.

"What does that mean?" asked Louis.

"You're talking funny."

"No, I'm not. Am I?" He giggled again.

Ms Curtis sighed. "Mum, would you like a refill of champagne?"

"Yes please, dear."

Ms Curtis went into the kitchen. A few moments later she yelled, "Louis!"

"Uh oh," said Louis, still looking happy. "I'm in trouble again."

"Get in here!"

Louis hopped down from the table and went into the kitchen. Harry strained to hear what was going on, but Ms Curtis was talking very quietly. Louis' side of the conversation didn't make much sense. He kept saying, "I didn't mean to, it just happened."

Ms Curtis came out of the kitchen, dragging Louis. "What's going on?" asked Ms Curtis' mum.

"We've run out of champagne," she said.

"Oh my goodness. Not the boy?"

"I'm going to phone the hospital. I'm sure he'll be okay, but I want to make sure. Louis, go sit on the couch."

"I might fall over," said Louis.

"Naughty boy." She escorted him to the couch, then went to the phone.

"What happened?" asked Niall.

"Louis must have drunk the champagne, " said Liam. "Did you, Louis?"

"I didn't mean to. Something made me."

Harry knew only too well the effect alcohol had on a person. His last foster father liked to drink. He recognised the slurring sound in Louis' voice. "Louis, you shouldn't have, it's not for kids," he said.

"I just wanted to taste it."

They could hear Ms Curtis on the phone. "He's just turned eleven... I don't know, me and my mother had a glass each, and he drank the rest of the bottle. Yes, a standard bottle. Yes, he's on medication for ADHD. Ritalin. I should bring him in, just in case? Thank you, nurse." She hung up and came back into the main area. "Louis, you're in big trouble. Mum, I have to take Louis to the hospital, because he's on Ritalin."

"You don't expect me to babysit?"

"Could you? I don't want to take all the boys in, it'll be bedlam. They won't be any trouble, they'll just do their jigsaw."

Ms Curtis' mum closed her eyes. "What choice do I have?"

"Thank you, mother. Now, come on, Louis. Here's your shoes. Get up, we're going to the hospital."

Louis tried to get up, but flopped back down again. "I can't stand up."

"Here." Ms Curtis helped him put his shoes on, and hugged him to her side as they went to the door. 

"Do you hate me yet?" asked Louis.

"Oh, Louis," said Ms Curtis. "I could never hate you. No matter what you do. When will you see that?"

"You should hate me. I'm bad news. I'm a bad influence on the younger boys."

"We'll talk about it later, okay? Goodbye, boys. Be good." She and Louis left.

Ms Curtis' mum looked around at them all, still seated at the table. "Well."

"We won't be any trouble," Liam promised.

***

True to Liam's word, they weren't any trouble. Liam and Zayn helped with the dishes while Harry and Niall tidied up. Then they went to work on the jigsaw. They got in each other's way a lot but stifled any arguments between them. Harry worked on bushes of blue flowers in the foreground. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't notice time passing. All of a sudden, it seemed, there was a key in the front door lock. Ms Curtis and Louis were back. Harry rushed to the door.

"Are you okay?" he asked Louis. 

Ms Curtis was still supporting Louis. "He's fine. They put him on a drip to make sure he didn't get dehydrated."

Louis looked tired. He raised a hand to Harry but didn't say anything.

"Come on, let's set you down," said Ms Curtis to him. "Mother, how have things been?"

"The boys were very well behaved, I must say," she said, as if it surprised her.

"I told you they would be."

"No, I can see who the trouble-maker is."

"I am," said Louis. "I'm a bad influence."

"Hush, Louis. Sit on the couch," said Ms Curtis.

"But I want to go to bed."

"You're not going to bed. You won't be able to sleep later on, if you go to bed now. Sit on the couch and be quiet." Ms Curtis settled him and went over to her mother. "I'm so grateful, honestly, that you looked after the boys so well."

"You were right, they just worked on their jigsaw," said Ms Curtis' mum. "I did some baking. I made raisin and cornflake biscuits."

"Oh, mum."

"Can we have some yet?" asked Niall.

"Yes, they'll have cooled down by now."

"Goody!" Niall raced into the kitchen. The others followed. Harry, after taking one last look at Louis, eyes closed on the couch, trailed after them.

"Thank you so much," Ms Curtis said to her mum.

"Well, this visit has been much longer than I expected. I'd best be off."

"Boys, before you eat any biscuits, come and say thank you and goodbye!"

"Thank you, ma'am, for looking after us," said Harry.

"Yes, thank you so much," said Liam, re-entering.

"Thanks especially for the biscuits. They're fantastic," said Niall, a half-eaten one in his hand.

"Nothing like home-made, I always say," said Ms Curtis' mum. "Well, I'm going. I hope you get your jigsaw finished."

"You'll have to come over and see it, when we do," said Niall.

"Yes, I'm sure. Well, goodbye all."

Ms Curtis kissed her mum on the cheek and she left. "Thank god today's nearly over," she sighed. 

"Is Louis in trouble?" asked Liam.

"A little bit of trouble, yes. Boys, you must never, ever drink alcohol. It's not for children."

"I won't," said Liam, shaking his head, and the others murmured their agreement. 

"Now, why don't you go back to your jigsaw, and I'll get dinner ready."

"No one's done the waterfall, have they?" said Louis, opening his eyes. "Because I want to do the waterfall."

"We know," said Zayn. "We left the waterfall for you."

"Good. I'll do it later, when I'm not so tired." He closed his eyes again.

"Don't fall asleep," warned Ms Curtis.

"Can I go skateboarding, then?"

"Absolutely not. You can't even walk in a straight line."

"Hazza, do you want to skateboard?" At Harry's nod of enthusiasm, Louis said, " Can I watch him?"

"You're not going out the front. Back verandah only. You can sit on a chair and watch. Harry, make sure he doesn't fall asleep."

"I'll teach you how to do a three-sixty," said Louis, stumbling to his feet.

"Here, I'd better help you," said Ms Curtis, and began to lead him out to the verandah.

Niall handed something to Harry. "Biscuits. One for Louis and one for you."

"Thanks, Niall." He followed Louis and Ms Curtis. After Ms Curtis sat Louis down in one of the chairs, Harry handed a biscuit to him. "They're good," he said, munching.

Louis tried his, and agreed. When they finished eating, Harry fetched Louis' skateboard from where it lived on the verandah and put on the helmet which was sitting on top.

"Tilt the board with just your back foot on the ground," instructed Louis. "No, foot on the board, silly. At the back. That's right. Now rest your other foot on the board. Try to balance on just the back wheels." By the time Ms Curtis called them into dinner, Harry could effect a modest spin, not anywhere near three hundred and sixty degrees, but still, it was an improvement.

***

School started up again. Snow fell constantly. It was soon Friday, the day of Harry's last payment to Nat. He sat down in their usual spot at break and jingled the coins in his pocket. Hopefully this would be the last time he'd have to see Nat Pringle.

"Here comes Nat," said Niall, pointing.

"Good. I want this over with," said Harry.

Nat and his friends stood over the boys. "Got my money?"

"Here." Harry handed the ten pounds across. Nat counted it carefully. "This is my last payment," Harry reminded him.

"You know what? I like this arrangement. You can keep on paying me ten pounds a week."

"What? But that's not what you said."

"I'm changing the deal. Every week, I want ten pounds." Nat and his friends laughed. 

"That's not fair!" said Zayn.

"You can't do that," said Harry.

"I can do what I like. You have no choice. Pay up, or get beaten up. Up to you." Nat and his friends walked away, still laughing.

Harry stared around at the other boys. The shock on their faces must have mirrored his own.

"Did he just-" said Niall.

"Yeah," said Zayn flatly.

"But. But he can't."

"He can do what he likes," said Liam gloomily. "Just be glad he didn't ask for ten pounds from each of us."

"I'm not paying him any more," said Harry.

"Harry, we have to. You heard what he said. He'll beat us all up."

Harry told Louis about it that afternoon on the way home from school. Louis wasn't skateboarding because of the snow so they walked together.

"That prick," said Louis. "Shit. What are you going to do, Harry?"

"I don't want to pay him."

"He's got you by the balls. He's got all of us." Louis indicated his plaster, which was still on his hand.

"I'll think of something," said Harry.

"There's nothing you can do. You're trapped, until the end of the school year at least. After that, he'll move on to high school and he'll be out of your hair."

Louis seemed pessimistic, and there was no reason not to be.

Harry was having other problems. He kept falling asleep in class. He fell asleep once mid-sentence and everyone had laughed at him. Mr Foster was sufficiently concerned to set up a meeting with Ms Curtis about it. That meeting had happened today. Ms Curtis took him aside when he got home. "Tomorrow I'm taking you to the doctors. Harry, you should have told me you had trouble staying awake in class."

"There's nothing you can do about it."

"I'm sure there's something. Maybe you have a medical problem."

"I just don't sleep very well."

"I always thought you slept like the dead."

"Well, I don't."

"Honey, you should have said. I'm sure the doctor can help you."

So on Saturday Janet came over to babysit the other boys, and, after leaving strict instructions they were to behave and not to go out, Ms Curtis took Harry to the doctors.

"It's unusual, but not impossible, for such a young boy to have sleep problems," said the doctor. "I'll request some tests. In the meantime, are you having any problems at home or school?"

"None at home," said Harry.

"Something at school?"

"Not really," sighed Harry. It wasn't Nat keeping him up at night.

"You're not being bullied?"

"No," he lied.

"Do you have friends?"

"Yes, my brothers are my friends."

"Your foster brothers?"

So the doctor knew about their family. "Yes," said Harry. "We look out for each other."

"Is there something to look out for?"

These questions were annoying. "It's school, not a Sunday picnic," said Harry.

"He's quite the cheeky one, isn't he?" said the doctor to Ms Curtis.

"Harry," said Ms Curtis, "if there were something going on at school, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?" Harry hated lying. He said nothing. "Is something happening at school?"

"It's nothing to do with my sleeping," said Harry. "I just lie awake at night scared of people in the house, all right?"

"Do you have nightmares?" asked the doctor.

"Sometimes."

"Now we're getting somewhere. We'll still get the tests done, but in the meantime I'll prescribe you some sleeping pills. They should stop the nightmares. You'll be too deeply asleep to have them."

"Sleeping pills for such a young boy," said Ms Curtis, trailing off.

"Growing boys need their sleep," said the doctor. "I'm afraid that until we get the results of the tests, this is the best I can do for now. Have you thought about counselling?"

"I can't afford counselling for the kids. Otherwise they'd all have it. They get seen by their social worker every so often. I don't know if they're much help."

"I know of a psychologist who in special cases doesn't charge above the threshold rate for the first six appointments. How about I write a referral to her?"

"Okay," said Ms Curtis. "That sounds good. You couldn't write a referral for Louis too, while you're at it? He got drunk at Christmas."

"I'm afraid I'd have to see Louis again before I can do that. But knowing his history, it shouldn't be a problem."

The doctor wrote a letter and filled out some forms, giving them to Ms Curtis. "Get that prescription filled, and I'm sure it will help. If you get the tests done today I should have the results by Tuesday. Phone me on Wednesday, just to be certain."

"Thank you, doctor."

"Thank you," said Harry.

"You do what Ms Curtis says, and I'm sure you'll be all right. Goodbye, young man."

***

Harry took a sleeping pill that night. It made him feel tired very quickly, so he went to bed early. But in the middle of the night, he woke up as usual. No nightmares, but the same old fear coursing through him, a fear that there was somebody in the house out to get him. He bundled himself under Louis' bed and kept vigil for a while, listening and startling at every creak of the house. He must have fallen asleep eventually, because he woke up to the feeling of someone shaking him. He tried to open his eyes. 

"Harry, what are you doing under my bed?"

It was Louis. Harry forced his eyes open and looked at the boy kneeling down on the floor and peering under the dangling covers at him. It was light. Harry had slept later than he normally did. 

"I... um... "

"Do you do this a lot?"

Harry nodded.

"Is it because of your nightmares?"

"No. I just get scared at night. I keep thinking someone's in the house."

"Silly baby," said Louis softly. "Why don't you wake me up if you're scared? I can check things out for you."

"You would?" That might make a difference.

"Of course. No one's going to get you while I'm around. Come on, come out from under there. It mustn't be very comfortable. And I throw my dirty socks under the bed."

"I know." Harry crawled out, and gathered up his things.

"Seriously, you've been doing this, and I've never heard you?"

"I know how to be quiet. And I always wake up when it starts to get light." 

"No wonder you're falling asleep at school. Hurry up and get back into bed. It's freezing." Louis didn't get back into his own bed until Harry got into his. "Ahhh! My sheets have gone cold."

"Sorry."

"Go to sleep. We've got less than an hour before we have to be up."

Feeling comforted, Harry fell asleep quickly.  
***

The next night, when Harry woke up, he looked over at Louis. Did he dare wake him up? But he knew Louis would be unhappy if he caught Harry under his bed again. He had no choice. He climbed out of bed and went over to the sleeping boy. He petted him gently on the shoulder. "Louis. Louis, I'm awake."

"Mmm? What? Oh, Harry." Louis propped himself up. "Time to check out the house, huh? Do you want to come with me or stay here?"

"Come with you." Harry backed off, allowing Louis to get out of bed. 

"Put your slippers on. Don't want you catching cold." Louis put his own slippers on, picked up a torch that he'd put beside his bed, then opened the bedroom door. Harry followed on his heels. "We'll start here at the back of the house, and work forwards. First we'll check on Liam and Niall." 

"Yes, please." Unable to help himself, he clutched Louis' hand. Louis said nothing, but let him.

Liam and Niall were quietly sleeping. They hadn't been murdered in their beds or anything. Good. They checked the laundry next, followed by the bathroom and toilet. No one to be seen. Zayn was sleeping, too.

Through the house they walked, their feet making hardly any noise in the carpet. Louis shined the torch before them, prodding it into the corners of each room and checking behind curtains and furniture. He seemed to know exactly what Harry's fears were. Finally, they had only Ms Curtis' room left to check. They tiptoed into her room. Fortunately the door didn't creak or anything. They could hear Ms Curtis breathing evenly.

They checked out the bedroom then Louis shone the torch in her bathroom. That was it. The house was safe. For now. Someone could still break in, but no one had broken in yet.

"Okay?" Louis whispered.

"Yes." Harry finally let go of Louis' hand.

They left Ms Curtis' room and went back to their bedroom. "Can you sleep now?" Louis asked.

"I don't know," Harry admitted.

"You can't keep sleeping under my bed. It's all dusty down there." Louis got into his bed. "Would it help if you stayed here for a while?"

"With you?"

"If you like."

Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He climbed into bed beside Louis. It was a tight fit, with the two of them. Harry found himself snuggling up to Louis. Louis seemed okay with that. He put an arm around Harry. 

"Don't be scared," said Louis soothingly. "You're safe with me."

Harry realised, belatedly, that Monkey was still in his bed. But he found he was okay with that. Louis was even better protection than Monkey. With the warmth of Louis' body, and his arm around him, he found himself drifting off to sleep. He tried to fight it off. He had to stay alert. But the sleeping pill worked on him, sending him off to sleep.

From then on, it was a nightly ritual. Harry would wake in the middle of the night, wake up Louis, and they'd check the house together, or Louis would go alone. Afterwards, they'd return to Louis' bed. Sometimes Harry would awaken early in the morning and go back to his own bed, but just as often, he slept right through with Louis. The feeling of safety was like that which he'd had when his parents had been alive and available to chase away the monsters. Harry was so grateful to have Louis.

***

On Wednesday just after lunch Harry was sitting at his school desk working on Maths problems when a call came over the public address. "Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, please bring your school bags to administration. Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson." 

Wondering what it could be about, Harry fetched his bag and made his way up to admin. Once inside the front room, he saw Ms Curtis. "What is it?" he asked.

"I phoned the doctor. He didn't want to discuss it over the phone. He wanted to see you." Ms Curtis looked worried. "Oh good, there you are, Louis. We're going to the doctor."

"But I'm not sick," said Louis.

"No, you're not, but I need the doctor to see you so that he can write a referral to a psychologist for you."

"I don't want to see a shrink."

"A psychiatrist is a shrink. This is a psychologist."

"Like there's a difference?"

"Come on, let's go. I don't want to miss the appointment."

Louis looked discomfited. Harry didn't blame him. He didn't want to see a psychologist, either, but Ms Curtis had already booked him in.

Louis wasn't good at sitting quietly and waiting. Fortunately the doctors' surgery had toys to play with. "Don't put anything in your mouth," warned Ms Curtis.

"I'm not a little kid," said Louis.

"Play quietly, okay?"

Louis and Harry went over to the toy corner and looked about for something interesting. There was an assortment of dolls, soft toys and building blocks. Louis dug in the container until he came up with two small cars.

"We can have races," he said. He crouched down over his car. "See that far wall? That's what we're aiming for. Whoever gets closest wins."

Adjacent to the far wall was patient seating. Some people were sitting there. Harry had a feeling they were about to get into trouble. Still, he went along with Louis and lined his car up.

"One, two, go!" said Louis, and pushed his car at the wall. Harry pushed his own car as hard as he could along the carpet. Louis' ended up just over halfway across the room, while Harry's didn't fare as well. "I won!" said Louis.

They did it again. Louis won again. 

"You're bigger than me," said Harry.

"I know. I'm eleven years old. You're only eight." He ruffled Harry's hair. "Still a baby."

Harry liked it when Louis ruffled his hair, and even liked it normally when Louis called him a baby. But this was in public. "I'm not a baby. I'm nine on February the first."

"Boys," said Ms Curtis, looking up from her magazine. "I can hear raised voices. Are you bothering people?"

"No," said Louis.

"Yes, they are," said an old man sitting along their racetrack.

"Come and sit down quietly."

"But-"

"Louis, come and sit down now. You too, Harry."

Louis and Harry sat down with Ms Curtis. Louis sat next to the magazine stand and rifled noisily through it. "There's nothing to read but women's magazines," he complained.

"There's some children's books. You can read them."

"They're all for little kids. Like Harry. Not for me."

Fortunately the doctor called them, and they got up and followed him to his room.

"Take a seat," said the doctor. 

There were only two chairs. Louis sat on the step of the bed.

"Now, nothing alarming," continued the doctor. "Harry has anaemia, that's all. See? Here's his iron test. The level is far too low."

"His anaemia is something to do with his sleeping?"

"It could contribute to him being tired, certainly. Didn't they feed you well at your last home?" he asked Harry.

"No," said Harry.

"There you have it. Easily remedied by supplements. Go to the pharmacy and ask them for a child's dose of iron tablets. He's to take one a day. Now, Louis. I heard you got drunk at Christmas."

"I didn't mean to."

"I don't normally have alcohol in the house," explained Ms Curtis. "It was just for that one day."

"How are you going with the Ritalin?"

"I'm taking it," said Louis. "I don't think it's making any difference."

"I haven't noticed a difference," agreed Ms Curtis.

"Well, I did start you on a very small dose. We'll have to increase it. I'll write a new prescription for the higher dose." He turned to his desk and began typing on the computer.

"There's also that thing we discussed before, about referring Louis to a psychologist?"

"I don't think I need a psychologist," said Louis. "I've already seen a shrink."

"You saw a psychiatrist," corrected the doctor. "No, I'm interested in her opinion of you. The psychiatrist's report was very brief. It would help me, if you went."

"I'm not nuts."

"Of course not. You just need a little help. There's been a lot of adjusting for you to do in the past few months; new home, new family, new school. Even I would find it difficult to cope with all that at once."

Louis looked down and didn't reply. Then he hopped up and went over to play with the skeleton in the corner. "Hello, Mr Skeleton. I'm Tommo the Terror."

"Louis, leave the skeleton alone," said Ms Curtis.

"Can we get a skeleton?"

"No."

"Harry, you've got a birthday coming up. Ask for a skeleton."

"I thought I was supposed to be getting a skateboard," said Harry.

"No, you're right. A skateboard is more important. It's Zayn's birthday in three days. He can get one."

"No one's getting a skeleton," said Ms Curtis.

"You can unpack the torso if you like," said the doctor.

"Cool. Look at this, Harry. It's all your guts and lungs and everything." Louis picked up a dummy half-person from a shelf. It was full of plastic pieces. Harry recognised the lungs, and knew what he was looking at. "This is your large intestine, also called your colon. Here's the heart, behind the lungs." Louis listed all the body parts for Harry. Harry was fascinated. That was what he looked like inside? 

Before long, though, the doctor finished writing the letter to the psychologist and Louis and Harry had to pack the torso away. Louis put it all back together properly and they left.

"Now back to school," said Ms Curtis.

"No. Do we have to?" said Louis. "There's less than an hour."

"But my books are on my table," said Harry.

"The teacher'll put them away. Please can we just go home?"

"I suppose by the time I get you back there, there'll only be half an hour of class left," said Ms Curtis.

"Say yes. Please say yes."

"But don't you need your homework?"

"I've got my homework in my school bag."

"You can come home," Ms Curtis decided, "as long as you help me with the dishes."

"Of course we'll help with the dishes."

"I'm surprised at you, Louis. Normally you do anything you can to get out of doing the dishes."

"School's worse."

At home, they did the dishes, then Ms Curtis asked Harry to sit down; she wanted to talk to him. "Don't go anywhere, Louis. I want to talk to you afterwards."

"What about? I haven't done anything."

"I get so little time with each of you boys individually. I just want to find out how you're going."

"I'm going fine."

"You can tell me that after I talk to Harry." 

"I'll be outside," said Louis and opened the sliding door.

"Put a coat on if you're going out."

"Mothers," said Louis, but went to fetch a coat. Ms Curtis got a small smile on her face.

When Louis was outside, Ms Curtis sat down at the meals table opposite Harry. Harry waited, feeling nervous.

"I haven't had a moment to talk to you since we all went shopping," said Ms Curtis. "Are you settling in?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm sure it's been a little hard to cope with. In your last foster home you were the only child, weren't you?"

"Yes, but I like being around other kids."

"Are you getting along with the boys okay?"

"Yes. They're all great."

"I know you're good friends with Niall and Zayn and Liam, but what about Louis? Is everything all right between you two?"

"He's my protector," said Harry.

"What does he protect you from?" Harry bit his lip. "Is it something at school?"

"No. He helps me when I get scared at night."

"What does he do?"

"Pats me. Sometimes he sings to me."

"Well I never," said Ms Curtis. "He hides it well, but I know underneath he's got a soft heart. He does seem to have taken a shine to you, Harry. I never thought I'd see the day when he had the patience enough to teach somebody to skateboard."

"Can I get one for my birthday?" asked Harry. 

"Skateboards are expensive, Harry."

"I know," said Harry, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean to ask, it just came out."

"Normally charity helps me with gifts. I don't think they run to skateboards, but I'll try."

"Okay."

Then Ms Curtis got a determined look on her face. "You don't have anything nice. I want you to have something special. How about we make a deal? You save up between now and then, and try to get half the purchase price. I'll pay the other half."

"Really?" 

"It's up to you, Harry."

Harry worked it out quickly. If he saved all his ten pounds allowance each week, minus the two pounds he had to give to Nat, he would have thirty two pounds by his birthday. And he had some money saved already. He could do this. "Thank you, Ms Curtis."

"You might have to save up all over again for a helmet, though. I can't afford to help you with both. You'll have to borrow Louis' helmet."

They chatted for a bit longer before Ms Curtis seemed satisfied that Harry was going along okay. "All right, Harry, I'll let you go. Can you fetch Louis for me?"

Harry slipped on his shoes and went out. Louis was walking up and down the snow-covered back lawn. Harry could follow his footprints and knew by the churned up snow that Louis had been pacing the whole time. "It's your turn!" he called.

Louis looked like he was being led to his doom. "Did she ask you anything difficult?" he said to Harry.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I don't want to talk to her."

"She's nice. She won't hurt you."

"I'm not worried," said Louis determinedly but Harry knew he was. He wondered what Louis was so worried about. Sure, she got on Louis' case a lot, but she liked him. 

Maybe Louis didn't know that, though.

***

It was Friday, the day Harry had been dreading. Today was the day Nat was going to ask him for another ten pounds. The boys had all given their share to Harry, and the money burned a hole in his pocket. Almost literally. 

He didn't discover it until break time, when he went to count the money. Half of it was missing. He dug his fingers frantically into his pocket and his fingers touched his leg. There was a hole in his pocket. Some of the money must have fallen out without him knowing about it.

He was frantic. What was he going to do? There was no time to make an alternative plan. Nat was sure to come up to him during the break. He could hide, but that would just be delaying the inevitible. With a heavy heart, he walked towards the place he hung out.

"What's the matter?" asked Niall when he saw him. 

"I've got a hole in my pocket."

"That's nothing to look so down about."

"It's where the money was. Some of it must have fallen out somewhere."

"What, you don't have the money?"

"That's right," said Harry, feeling sick.

"Shit," said Zayn.

"Oh my god, he's coming over," said Liam.

"What do I do?" said Harry.

"Just pay him what you've got," said Zayn. "Tell him you'll make up the rest."

Harry thought of his skateboard. He didn't want to pay any more money to Nat. Not when it could be going to buying a skateboard.

"Hello, girls," said Nat, arriving with his friends in tow. "Got my payment?"

"Not exactly," said Harry.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't have all of it. It must have fallen out of my pocket."

"It fell out of your pocket. That's a good story."

"It's true! Look!" Harry turned his pocket inside out. The hole could clearly be seen.

"It's not my problem," said Nat. "I'm here to get my ten pounds. Either you give it to me, or you pay in some other way."

"Can't I just give you the extra on Monday?"

"The deal is Friday. Friday is when I expect you to have the money." Nat was beginning to look very annoyed.

"So how else can I pay?" said Harry.

"You'll pay twice over. You'll pay what you have now, pay the rest Monday. And I get to bash you."

"That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, kid." Nat put his hand out. "Come on, hand over what you've got."

Harry stared from Nat's hand to Nat's face. "No," said Harry.

"What?"

Harry knew he had to make a stand. Trembling, he squared up to Nat. "No. If you're going to bash me anyway, I'm not giving you anything."

"Harry, what are you doing?" said Liam.

"He's not getting any more out of me. I've had enough."

"I'll fight you right here and now, you twerp," said Nat, bunching his fists up.

"You wouldn't dare to fight him," said Niall. "We're at school."

"Oh yeah? Grab him," Nat ordered his friends. 

Harry tried to back away but Nat's friends grabbed him. They twisted his arms up behind his back and displayed him for Nat.

"You can't hit him!" shouted Niall. "He's smaller than you."

"I'm getting this money out of you by hook or by crook." Nat began digging his hands into all of Harry's pockets. He started with his coat. Harry twisted, trying to break free, but it was no use. Nat's hands were everywhere. They moved down to his trousers, into his unholy trouser pocket. They probed in so roughly that they tore the pocket. Harry gasped as he felt Nat grope at his dick through his underwear. 

"You just touched my dick."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"I did not!" shouted Nat, red-faced.

"You touched my dick!" said Harry fiercely.

"Shut up about it!"

Nat's mates loosened their hold on Harry, and Harry pulled one arm free. "Pervert!"

Nat punched him. The blow hit him firmly in the eye socket. Harry yelped in pain as his neck twisted sharply. Nat's friends were holding him only losely.

"Nat, you'd better not," said one of his friends.

"Take it back," said Nat. "Take it back or I'll hit you again."

Harry was dazed, but determined to stand up for himself. He held his hands in front of his body. "I'm not taking it back. You touched my dick."

This was obviously a sore spot for Nat. He howled and punched Harry again, this time in the chest. Harry doubled over in pain, gasping for breath. 

"Pringle! Smith! Leary! Shetland! Let go of that boy now!" An angry teacher, obviously having witnessed at least one of the punches, was striding towards them.

Nat only howled again and punched Harry, this time in the side of the face. Harry was a mass of pain. Nat was out of control. He flung Harry to the ground, attacking his head. The teacher reached them and hauled him off Harry before he could do too much damage. Nat swung at the teacher instead. 

"Pringle! Get control of yourself!" The teacher flung Nat's arm up his back, twisting to stop the boy. Nat yelled in pain. 

"Are you all right?" the teacher asked Harry on the ground. Niall and Liam and Zayn were gathered around him. Harry had blood on his face; he could taste it. He still couldn't breathe.

"No, he's not all right," said Niall. "He needs a doctor."

The teacher looked Harry up and down, looking horrified. Meanwhile, another teacher had come running up. "Call an ambulance!" the first teacher said. The second teacher pulled her phone out of her pocket and did so, while the first teacher dragged Nat away. Nat's friends had all disappeared.

The second teacher got off the phone and came over to Harry. She handed him some tissues. "Here. They're clean. Hold them up to your face. Is anything broken?"

"I think my ribs," gasped Harry.

"Lie still. Try to breathe calmly. An ambulance is on the way."

A crowd of students had gathered; Harry could just see when he titled his head forward. He heard one of the students say, "He just stood up to Nat Pringle! I've never seen anything like it."

Meanwhile Niall babbled nonsense at him. "You're gonna be okay, Harry, we've got you now, Nat can't hurt you any more."

Harry blacked out.

***

He came to in the ambulance. A paramedic looked at him, relieved. "You're awake."

"I hurt."

"Where do you hurt, darling?"

"Everywhere." Harry knew that wasn't helpful, so he added, "My head. My chest."

"You're concussed, and we think you've fractured a rib or two. We'll know more when we get you to X-ray. Just hang on in there. Not much further to go."

"Is Niall okay?"

"Niall?"

"He was worried."

"From what I understand, you were the only boy hurt. Your friends are fine. Just lie still now, love. Nearly there."

Harry must have blacked out again, or lost his memory, because the next thing he knew, he was in a hospital bed in a small cubicle surrounded by a green curtain, and a doctor and a nurse were discussing his X-ray results.

"What is it?" said Harry.

Another nurse came into the room. "Doctor, there's a multiple. Road trauma."

"Talk to him," the doctor instructed the nurse he'd been talking to, and rushed out of the cubicle. 

"Hello, love," said the nurse, coming up to Harry. "Bad news, I'm afraid. You've got a concussion. And two of your ribs are fractured."

"That must be why it hurts so much," he choked out.

"Still? Let me check." She picked up his chart from the foot of the bed. "We can give you another painkiller."

"Yes, please."

The nurse left the cubicle, and came back with a second nurse. They administered a needle to him after checking his name on his leg-band and arm-band. Within a couple of minutes, Harry felt himself floating away. His ribs still ached, but not as much. He laughed. This was a ridiculous situation to be in. He'd tried to take on Nat Pringle.

"What's so funny, love?"

"I think the boy who did this to me is going to get expelled."

"As he should," said the nurse. "I can't believe such violence on the school ground. I've got kids; I'd hate to see this happening to either of them. You're lucky, though. From what I've heard, it could have been worse."

"Yeah, I feel really lucky," giggled Harry.

"Well, at least you can laugh about it. Or is that the morphine we gave you?"

"I think it's what you gave me."

"Oh sweetheart. Don't worry, things won't get too crazy. It was a child's sized dose."

Harry floated on morphine for a while, until Ms Curtis burst into the cubicle. She rushed up to Harry but stopped herself from touching him. "Honey. I came as soon as I could. Are you all right? What am I saying, of course you're not all right."

"I'm on morphine," Harry told her.

"You must be in a lot of pain. Oh my goodness. Your face."

"What's happened to my face?" asked Harry, interested.

"You've got a black eye. You've got a cut around your mouth. Oh, my poor baby."

"It's okay," Harry reassured her. "It doesn't hurt too much. I'm on morphine, did I tell you that?"

"Yes, honey, you told me that."

"I can't remember."

"It's okay. Just be still, now."

"Is Niall okay?"

"Niall? From what I understand, they didn't touch Niall. Only you."

"He was worried," Harry clarified.

"I imagine he's okay. He's still in school. I've got Janet waiting at home to look after the boys. I'm sorry I'm late, but I had to organise a sitter."

"It's okay," said Harry. "My memory's gone, anyway."

Ms Curtis looked close to tears, but she held them back. Harry was grateful. He didn't want to make Ms Curtis cry over him.

"When can I go home?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Wait here and I'll find out."

Harry giggled again, because what else was he going to do but wait? Moving hurt too much.

Ms Curtis soon returned with a nurse. She checked his chart before saying anything. "We want to monitor him overnight. There's some concern about bleeding into the chest cavity. He seems to be fine, though."

"Shouldn't the doctor look at him again?"

"I can get a doctor."

"Please."

The nurse came back after a few minutes with a doctor, a lady this time. Harry was grateful. Ms Curtis had been asking him awkward questions about the fight.

"Ah yes, Harry," said the doctor. "I'd heard about you. Let me have a look." She picked up his chart, nodded, put it back and came over to Harry. "Show me your chest."

Harry moved the sheet down. He was naked except for his underwear. Vaguely he wondered where his school clothes had gone. Ms Curtis wouldn't be happy if the hospital lost them.

"Yes. The extensive bruising is why we're worried about further bleeding. But as long as he lies still, he'll be okay, yes Harry?"

"Yes, I'll be still."

"Good boy. We want to keep him overnight, just to be sure. I hope that reassures you, ma'am?"

"Yes, thank you," said Ms Curtis. She stayed with Harry a long time, as Harry drifted in and out of a morphine daze. Eventually, however, she stood up. "I have to get back home. Someone has to to feed the children. Harry, first thing tomorrow I'll come back. Okay?"

"It's okay, Ms Curtis. I understand."

"You're a good boy," said Ms Curtis. She patted him on the hand, bade him to get well, and left. Soon afterwards, Harry was shifted onto a ward. He found himself in yet another green-curtained cubicle. It wasn't any different to the last. He drifted again, as nursing staff came in and out. They gave him another injection, and he fell asleep.

***  
The next day, as promised, Ms Curtis came to get him at around nine in the morning. Harry gasped as he was forced to sit up for the first time. Pain flared through his chest. His head, in comparison, didn't feel too bad.

"Get this prescription filled," said the doctor to Ms Curtis. "He'll need the pills, otherwise he'll be in a lot of pain."

"Of course," said Ms Curtis. "Thank you so much for looking after him."

"From what I understand, it's been a pleasure. The nurses all love him. They'll be sorry to see him go."

Sure enough, a line of nurses said goodbye to him as he was wheeled out of the ward.

"How's Zayn?" he asked Ms Curtis.

"Zayn?"

"It's his birthday."

"I know. I gave him his present before I left. He's worried about you. All the boys are. Expect quite the reception when you get home. Don't worry, I told them they weren't to hug you, because of your ribs."

It was difficult for Harry to get out of the wheelchair, but he made it with some help. His chest ached every time he moved. It ached even when he didn't move. Just breathing exacerbated it.

Ms Curtis filled the prescription on the way home, and soon enough they were pulling up into the driveway of the house. The boys must have heard the key in the lock, for they came dashing from every direction to arrive in the hall. Louis was first, though. His face looked strained. He rushed up to Harry, arms open, but quickly dropped them at his sides. "You little shit," he said, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Louis. Language," said Ms Curtis.

"You had me worried," Louis told Harry.

"You had all of us worried," said Niall, stepping forward. 

"I'm okay," said Harry, but winced straight afterwards as the step he took aggravated his ribs. "Happy birthday, Zayn."

"Forget my birthday," said Zayn. "I'm just happy you're okay. Well, okay enough to come home."

Ms Curtis settled Harry on the couch, surrounded by supportive pillows, and with the footrest all for his own. She laid a blanket across him as the finishing touch. "You have to stay still," she reminded him.

"I know."

"Boys, back off him." The others had been crowding around but they jumped back, obeying Ms Curtis. 

"Do you want anything, Harry?" asked Niall, concerned.

"I want Monkey, and my monkey book."

"I'll get them," hollered Louis, breaking off from the group. He came back quickly, breathless. "Here." He handed Harry the precious items.

"Thank you," said Harry. Louis blushed and muttered something unintelligible.

The boys wouldn't let him alone. They hovered around him while he was trying to read his monkey book. 

"You can go play. Don't worry about me," he told them. 

"You have no idea what it was like, do you?" Zayn burst out. "Watching you being beaten by Nat. I should have helped. I hate myself."

"Don't hate yourself, Zayn. Don't any of you. It was all so quick."

It was the truth, and Zayn and the others knew it, but they still looked guilty. 

"Anyway, Nat's been expelled," said Liam. "We told them the whole story."

"About the money and everything?"

"Everything," Liam confirmed. 

Harry sighed with relief. It was a burden off his shoulders that he'd no longer have to pay Nat off. 

Ms Curtis came into the room with a mug of tea for Harry. "Why are you all hovering about?" she asked.

"We're worried about Harry," said Niall.

"He needs his rest. Go and play in the back yard, or something."

"Harry, we'll stay if you need us."

"No, it's okay. Go play. I bet you're dying to try out Zayn's new kite."

The boys looked conflicted. It was obvious they wanted to stay with Harry, and fly the kite, at the same time.

Ms Curtis broke the spell. "Zayn, you have to tell me if it works. If it doesn't, I'll have to take it back." She headed towards the kitchen. "Go on, go try it."

"Okay," said Zayn, reluctantly. He peeled off, and the others followed him. All except for Louis. Louis sat gently down on the couch next to Harry.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he said. "When I found out through the school grapevine that Nat Pringle had beaten you... I don't know what I thought."

"I'm okay." Harry patted his hand.

Louis took Harry's hand in his own. "You're so brave. I could never stand up to him like that."

"You did. He broke your hand, remember?"

"And since then I've been a coward. Letting him do what he wants. I should never have let it get this far."

"It's not your fault."

"It is!" said Louis. "I should have taken the beating. I could have handled it."

"I'm handling it okay. Now that I know he's expelled."

"Harry, you don't understand." Louis looked frustrated. "You're my younger brother. I'm supposed to look out for you. I didn't."

"Are we brothers, then?"

Louis looked down. "If you want to be."

"I want to be," said Harry. 

Louis glanced at him, before turning away again. "Dunno why. I let you down."

"This is all Nat Pringle's fault, not yours. Nat Pringle was the one who beat me up."

"I may as well have given him permission." Louis, suddenly, began to cry. "I'm so sorry, Harry," he sobbed.

Harry felt stricken. "Don't. Don't cry. You have to be strong for me."

"I can't be strong for you. I'm useless."

"No, you're not. You save me from intruders every night."

"That's because I don't believe there are any intruders. Otherwise I'd be just as much of a mess as you."

"That doesn't matter," said Harry fiercely. "You make me feel better, and that's all that counts."

"It helps?" said Louis, through his tears.

"Yes. Afterwards, when we're in bed together, I feel safer than I've ever been."

"I've noticed you've been dropping off to sleep quickly."

"That's because you're protecting me. If you weren't, I wouldn't be able to sleep."

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Please don't cry. I love you, Louis. Please don't cry."

At that, Louis managed to choke back his tears. They sat in silence for a time, until Harry ventured, "Will you read my monkey book to me?"

"You can read it yourself. I know you're smart enough."

"But I want you to read it." Harry pushed the book firmly at Louis, so that he had no choice but to accept it. 

"Well, okay then. Okay." Louis opened the book, spread it across both their laps, and began reading. Harry drifted to sleep to the sound of his voice. 

***

The next few days were hard for Harry. His ribs would not stop hurting every time he moved. At least he didn't have to go to school. But Ms Curtis checked up on his curriculum, and bought the school to him. On Monday they did schoolwork.

"Harry, it's your twelve times table. You should know it off by heart."

"We never did twelve times fourteen."

"Just add twenty-four to twelve times twelve."

"Why?"

"Because twelve times twelve, plus two times twelve, equals fourteen times twelve."

"I need a calculator."

"No, you don't. You can do this in your head."

"But the school lets us use calculators."

"I don't know why," said Ms Curtis. "It's easy to work out in your head. Go on."

"A hundred and sixty eight," said Harry, after thinking for a few seconds.

"Correct. See, I told you you could do it."

"We're supposed to concentrate on the formulas. Not the maths."

"I don't know what that school is teaching you," said Ms Curtis. "Twelve times fourteen is an everyday problem. Is it cheaper to get the toilet paper that's two times twelve, or the brand that's three by ten? I do these calculations every day."

"But you're an adult. You're supposed to be able to."

"I thought you were nearly nine."

Harry sighed in frustration. The truth was, he was ahead of some of his peers in the times tables, but Ms Curtis obviously wasn't going to be satisfied with that.

They continued to work on Maths problems for the morning. Harry had to admit Ms Curtis knew some useful shortcuts, but they weren't allowed to use shortcuts. They had to show all the working out on the page.

"But it's so much easier to do it my way," said Ms Curtis.

"We're not allowed to. We have to show all the workings out."

"What are they teaching you at school these days? How to be robots?" Ms Curtis held up her hands. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't mean to disparage your teacher. But they should be encouraging free thinking, not adherance to indoctrination."

Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but nodded appeasingly.

They couldn't work on science, since it involved an experiment, but they could work on English. And work they did. Ms Curtis was a hard task-master. She wasn't satisfied with the answers Harry's teacher was. She demanded more. 

"But that's all the teacher wants from me," protested Harry. 

"Are you satisfied with merely what the teacher wants from you? He's only pandering to the lowest common denominator."

Again Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but she seemed to be suggesting he ought to be smarter. And he was, but there was no need. No one had ever asked it of him. Not even his parents.

"I'll just get called a brainiac and get teased," muttered Harry, when Ms Curtis continued to push him.

"Harry, I can't believe you're satisfied with second best. You're much smarter than that. I know it, and you know it."

Fortunately the boys came home from school at that point. Ms Curtis told him he could pack up his books, for now. Tomorrow, they'd get into it again. 

Harry didn't have to get up for dinner. Ms Curtis brought his dinner to him. He ate it, carefully, off a stand-up tray across his lap, as he'd done for the past few nights. Then Ms Curtis gave him his medication and he began flaking out. It was so hard to concentrate on the TV. 

"Off to bed, Harry," said Ms Curtis, noticing. She helped him get up, and escorted him to the room he shared with Louis. After laying him down carefully, she said goodnight, and turned the light out. Harry began drifting off to sleep, when Louis came into the room. He crouched down beside Harry. "You haven't been waking me up for the past couple of nights."

"My ribs are too sore. It hurts to move."

"Have you just been lying there, scared, in the dark?"

"Mostly I've been sleeping through it. The painkillers help."

"Mostly?"

"There was one night where I might have needed you, " Harry admitted.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"I told you, it hurts too much to move."

"You could have called out. I'd have woken up."

But Harry couldn't be certain of that. What if he called out for Louis, endlessly, and Louis never came? 

"Wake me up tonight," Louis told him.

"I can't move properly."

"Shout at me. I'll come to you."

Harry, inevitably, woke up in the middle of the night. The state of his ribs rendered him helpless. Even so, he didn't want to wake Louis. What if someone heard him calling out?

"Louis," he whispered. There was no response. "Louis," he tried again, a little louder. Then, louder still, "Louis."

Louis stirred. "Harry?"

"I'm awake."

Louis came over to his bed, carrying the torch. "I'll go check out the house, okay?"

"Okay." Harry didn't say hurry back, even though he wanted to. He strained to hear Louis' footsteps above the natural creakings of the house. It only worked while Louis was up this end of the house. Once he got beyond the passage, Harry couldn't hear him. He waited in breathless silence for Louis to come back.

"All clear," said Louis, coming back into the room. He switched off the torch after playing it over Harry's face. "You can sleep, now."

But Harry couldn't. After a while he called, "Louis?"

"Mmm hmm?"

"I can't come over to you."

"Do you want me to come over to you?"

"Yes," said Harry.

Louis got up and came over. "I don't want to hurt your ribs," he said, lifting the covers back. "How are we going to do this?"

Harry squished up as near to the wall as possible. His ribs ached as he moved, but it was a small sacrifice. "There's enough room, now," he said.

Very carefully, Louis got into the bed next to him. He finally settled next to Harry with a sigh. "I can't put my arm around you."

"I just need you next to me."

Louis stroked his hair instead, and Harry drifted off to sleep.

***

After another week, he was allowed to go back to school. His ribs still hurt, but they were much better. He didn't need such strong painkillers anymore. He was surprised to find himself ahead of the curriculum, for once. Ms Curtis had been thorough. He popped up with the answer time and again.

"I'm so glad to see you've been studying on your time off, Harry," said Mr Foster.

"There was nothing else to do."

"Why don't you lead the class in the reading?"

Harry took on the extra responsibility. He found he didn't mind it.

Everything went well on his first day back at school. Melody gave him some toffees. The schoolwork was easy. At break, he had children he'd never spoken to before were coming up and congratulating him for getting rid of Nat Pringle. He hadn't realised Nat had negatively affected so many lives.

"You're a hero," said Niall, when he finally made his way to their spot.

"No I'm not. I just got beaten up."

"But you got rid of Nat Pringle. No one else ever had the guts to stand up to him."

"Louis did."

"Louis did," agreed Niall, "before he got really hurt. I don't blame him. I'm just so proud of you."

"We're all proud of you," said Liam.

"Did he really touch your dick?" said Zayn.

"Yes, he really did. He busted my pocket. I can't wear those trousers anymore."

"That explains the jeans," said Zayn. Harry had worn jeans to school. The principal had assured him he wouldn't get into trouble. "Is Ms Curtis getting you a new pair?"

"She said she was doing it today."

"Pity. I'd like to wear jeans around school. It'd be cool."

"You're already cool enough," said Liam. "Any more coolness, and you'd be out of the range."

"That's true," agreed Zayn. "I don't know why I hang out with you guys."

"Because you like us," said Niall.

"I suppose so."

Zayn and Niall got into a wrestling match. Harry watched, feeling happy. He was back with his brothers again. And no more Nat Pringle to sour things.

***

Louis came up to them at lunch. "Just wanted to see you were doing okay," he told Harry. He looked embarrassed.

"He's a hero," said Niall. "Everyone loves him. You can go back and play with your bad boy friends."

"I don't like them much, you know," said Louis.

"What?"

"Adam, and Steve, and that lot. But I have to hang around with someone."

"You could hang around with us," offered Liam.

Louis only laughed bitterly. "That'd look good. Hanging out with a bunch of Fourth and Fifth years."

"Who cares how it looks?"

"I do. I'm Tommo the Terror. I have to hang out with those guys for my cred."

"Your cred?' said Zayn.

"You know, you'd be much more popular if you didn't hang out with this lot," Louis told him. "So would you, Harry. I've head the girls talking about you."

"I don't want to be popular," said Harry.

"Leave him alone, Louis," said Niall.

"I'm just saying, okay? Sometimes you have to worry about your reputation."

"We know your reputation," said Zayn. "You're only one step behind Nat Pringle."

"That's not true. I'm not a bully."

"No, but Adam and Steve and those guys keep people in fear of what they'll do."

"They wouldn't do anything."

"Maybe not, but people are still afraid of them."

"What am I supposed to do?" said Louis, frustrated.

"I told you," said Liam, "you can hang out with us."

"I can't. Someone would beat me up for being a wimp, I know it. Bashing Nat Pringle's face in only gets you so far, especially when he's no longer at this school."

"Are you scared?" said Harry.

"Of course not," scoffed Louis.

"I think you are," said Liam. "I think you're afraid that Adam and Steve and that lot will turn against you."

"Shut up, Liam, you don't know anything. I don't know why I bother to talk to you." Louis stomped off.

"Well," said Niall.

"That was interesting," said Liam.

"Do you really think he's scared?" asked Harry.

"It's obvious, isn't it? He's insecure because of his past, so he clings to these useless friendships to make himself feel better."

"What about his past?"

"It's the same as yours. Neglectful foster parents. Ones that hit him. He just seems to have taken it to heart."

Harry wondered how Liam would feel if he knew how worthless Harry really felt. Harry liked to put on a happy face, but inside he wasn't so good. Only Louis made him feel truly okay, and Harry was aware how strange their friendship was. Ordinary boys didn't snuggle up to each other at night. But Harry was grateful for whatever he could get. If that helped Louis out too, that was a good thing, surely?

***

Louis solved his own problem. He began hanging out with a girl.

Niall drew their attention to it one day. "Look, there's Louis," he said, pointing across to the other side of the football pitch. "That's Marissa, isn't it?"

Louis' plaster had come off by this stage. "What's he doing?" said Liam.

"Looks like he wants trouble," said Zayn. "He's going into the bushes. They're out of bounds."

"He's going to snog her."

"Gross."

"He's older than us. He's probably got hormones."

"What's hormones?" said Harry.

"It's when you start liking girls," said Liam.

"I like girls."

"No, I mean, really like girls. Like, want to have sex with them."

"Oh. I don't think I'm old enough for that."

"You're not," said Liam. "Forget I said anything."

"Is Louis old enough? I thought you had to be a grown-up. Like with alcohol and stuff."

"No, it's not like that. Whenever you're ready, you can do it. Adults just don't like it, that's all."

"So if you want to get into Melody's pants," said Niall, "best you don't tell Ms Curtis."

"I don't want to get into Melody's pants!" said Harry, scandalised.

"Good," said Zayn. "Because I don't think I could deal with it if you did."

"You're just jealous because Louis is pulling before you," said Niall.

"No, I'm not. I don't want to get into anyone's pants, either. I'll wait for my hormones, thanks very much."

Louis and Marissa had disappeared from sight. 

"They're definitely snogging," said Liam.

"He shouldn't," said Harry.

"Why shouldn't he?" said Niall. "If it gets him away from Adam and that bunch, it's got to be good."

Still, Harry felt jealous. Probably because he was used to Louis cuddling him, and only him. Now he was cuddling some girl. Snogging, even. "I'm going to talk to Melody," he said, getting up.

"Whoo hoo, Harry's making a move!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry, but he was, really. The boys catcalled behind him as he went over to Melody's group of friends. They were sitting up in the stands by the football pitch. Harry walked up the steps, unsure as to what he was going to do. But he couldn't back out now.

He stopped in front of the group of girls. They looked up at him. "Um, hi," he said.

They all giggled, Melody included. 

"Um, Melody, could I talk to you?"

"Of course, Harry." She rose, and smoothed down her skirt, before heading over to the steps with him.

"I was wondering," said Harry. Then it all came out in a rush. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

He didn't know what Melody's reaction would be. He was unprepared for her flinging herself at him. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to ask," she squealed. Harry tried not to wince at the impact on his ribs. "Of course I'll be your girlfriend."

"Okay. Well, um..."

"Do you want to come over on the weekend?"

"I don't know if I'm allowed."

"Ask your foster mother. Please Harry. We'll have such a good time."

Harry left her, mumbling promises about talking to Ms Curtis. A chorus of giggles followed him as Melody made her way back to her friends.

"Did you score?" said Niall, when he got back to the boys.

"Yeah. She asked me over to her place on the weekend."

Niall held up his hand. "Hi-five, brother!"

Harry hit Niall's hand. The bell went. He looked over at the bushes where Louis had disappeared with Marissa. They were walking back onto the football pitch. They were holding hands. Harry looked away.

***

He broached the subject with Louis that night, while they lay in Harry's bed together. "You've got a girlfriend," he said. 

"Marissa? Yeah."

"We saw you going into the bushes around the football pitch with her."

"You saw?"

"Yes."

"Oh well. It had to come out sooner or later. The boys will be pleased. I'm not hanging out with Adam and Steve anymore."

"Is that why you've got a girlfriend?" asked Harry. "So you'll have someone to hang out with?"

"In a way, yeah."

"So why were you snogging her?"

"Who says I was snogging her?"

"Liam."

"What would he know?" said Louis. "He wasn't there."

"You were snogging her though, weren't you?"

Louis paused for a moment. "Yeah," he said.

Harry fell silent.

"Haz?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"What's the matter?"

"You like a girl more than you like me."

"I never said that."

"But it's true, isn't it?"

Louis patted him fiercely on the face. It aggravated Harry's bruises but he didn't wince. "It's not true. I could never like a girl more than I like you."

Harry's heart leapt. "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it."

Harry sighed in relief. He hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath until his ribs twinged. "That's good. Because I've got a girlfriend, too."

"Oh really? Who? Melody?"

"Yeah."

"Cheeky monkey," said Louis. 

"I might be going over to her place on the weekend. I have to ask Ms Curtis."

"Cheeky cheeky cheeky," said Louis, poking at his cheek.

Harry laughed. They both fell silent. "Louis? I wish I could hug you right now."

"You can't. Your ribs."

"I know. But I wish."

And Louis kissed him. Kissed him right on the temple. Harry felt warm all over. "I'll give you the biggest hug you've ever had when your ribs are better."

"You mean it?"

"Yes. Goodnight Haz."

"Goodnight." Harry fell asleep to the sound and feel of Louis breathing against his neck.

***

After Ms Curtis talked to Melody's parents, she cleared him to go over to Melody's house that Saturday.

"Just don't go romping about," she said, as Melody's mum pulled up in their drive. Melody's mum had to pick him up because Ms Curtis couldn't leave the boys. "Your ribs, remember?"

"I know. They won't let me forget about them, don't worry."

He went out to the car. Melody was sitting in the back seat. "Hello, Harry," she said.

"Hello."

"Do you like dolls?"

"Not really."

"That's okay," said Melody. "We don't have to play with dolls. How about Playstation?"

"You have a Playstation?"

"Yes."

"Awesome."

"I've got lots of good games," said Melody.

That made things easy. Harry and Melody played games on the Playstation for the rest of the afternoon. When it was nearing five o'clock, Melody put down her controller.

"You have to go soon."

"I know. I've had a good time."

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Um... okay." He'd actually kissed girls before, but he liked Melody more than he liked those other girls. He didn't want to make a mistake.

Melody closed her eyes and presented her face. Harry leaned forward, and pecked her on the lips. 

"Again," said Melody. 

Harry pressed his lips softly to hers once again. It didn't feel as good as when Louis kissed him last night, but it was okay. He pulled back.

Melody had pulled back, too. "Now we're officially dating," she said.

"Okay." Melody's mother came into the room at that point to take him home, so there was no time to say anything else. 

"Goodbye, Harry. I had a lovely time," said Melody.

"Me, too. Goodbye."

"Can I come?" Melody asked her mother.

"No. Stay home and have a shower. I'll drop Harry back."

"See you on Monday!" called Melody.

"See you," Harry waved.

Ms Curtis was in the kitchen when he came back home. Louis was skulking around. "Is that you Harry?" called Ms Curtis. " Come in here." Harry obeyed. "How was your playdate?"

"It was good. Melody has a Playstation. We played all afternoon."

"I'm glad you had fun. Now, go and wash your hands."

Harry went down the passage to the bathroom. Louis followed. "Did you kiss her?" he said, looking at Harry through the mirror.

"Yes."

"What was it like?"

"It was nice."

"Huh," said Louis, and left. Harry finished washing his hands and went to find him. Louis had gone outside to sit on the edge of the verandah.

"Louis?"

"You've got a girlfriend now," said Louis. "Just like me."

"Yeah, just like you," said Harry, sitting down beside him.

"Are you going to hang out together at school and stuff?"

"I don't know."

"I'm going to hang out with Marissa from now on."

"So you've ditched your other friends?"

"I guess so," said Louis.

"Are you sad?"

"No."

"Won't you be lonely with just Marissa?"

"No more lonely than I already am."

"You don't need to be lonely. You've got me."

Louis put his arm around his shoulder. His ribs were getting better, slowly, so it didn't hurt too much. "I don't feel lonely with you," said Louis.

They watched the sunset together, before going in for dinner.

***  
The psychologist was called Ms Weir. She was a lady with flowing sleeves and a decorative scarf around her neck. Harry nervously sat down in front of her. There was nothing in between them except space. He'd wanted to bring Monkey but was worried he'd seem babyish.

"Hello, Harry," she smiled. "I hear you're having difficulty sleeping."

"I get scared at night."

"Why don't you tell me about yourself? Where were you born?"

Ms Weir asked lots of questions. Harry had to tell her all about what happened to his family, and all about the foster homes he'd been in. She kept extracting secrets from him, like the fact that his old foster family had locked him up in a cupboard for hours and he'd been forced to pee in his pants. He'd never told anyone that. He told her about how his foster father used to beat him, always in places where the bruises wouldn't show. 

"You've been through a hard time, Harry. No wonder you have trouble sleeping. Now, I want to do some tests with you, if that's okay?"

"Will they hurt?"

"No, I'll just be asking you questions and you have to answer them. Make sure you tell the truth now. The results won't be right if you don't tell the truth. It's very important. Some of the questions might seem strange or be hard to answer but I won't judge you for anything. Everything you tell me stays in this room. Just relax." She asked him all sorts of random questions, such as, did he ever wet the bed? did he hear voices? did he feel guilty for no reason? Harry found it all bewildering but answered as best he could. Early on he asked if Ms Curtis would be told any of his answers, and was reassured that no, she wouldn't be told. No one would be told.

At the end of an hour Ms Weir smiled at him. "You've done well, Harry. You've been very honest. Your answers will help me a lot in knowing what I can do to help you. This session has been hard, I know, but the first session is always hard. We're still getting to know each other and everything." She stood up. Harry stood up, too. She opened the door for him. "Thank you, Harry. It was nice getting to know you."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Ms Curtis stood up in the waiting area as they appeared. "Did everything go all right?"

"Everything's fine, Ms Curtis. I'll just book his next appointment." She opened her diary and she and Ms Curtis decided on a day. 

"We can only afford to come for six sessions, like I told you," said Ms Curtis.

"Very well. I'll be as intensive as I can over the next few sessions."

Harry went home with Ms Curtis. His head was reeling from all the questions. He felt very unsettled, fidgety and anxious. Some of the questions had been hard to answer, like the guilty one. He wasn't sure he'd got them all right. Other questions had caused bad feelings to arise.

When they got home he went looking for Louis, but couldn't find him. He approached Niall, who was at the meals table doing homework. "Where's Louis?"

"He went over to Marissa's after school," said Niall.

"When's he coming back?"

"I dunno. I think he's having dinner there or something."

Harry went to do his homework in his room, but he couldn't concentrate. His thoughts kept whirling around. At dinner, which Louis definitely wasn't at, he knocked over his glass of milk. He stared in horror as the milk spread across the table and began to drip on the floor.

"I didn't mean to!" he said.

Ms Curtis, however, wasn't mad. "Go fetch some paper towels." She came with him into the kitchen and rinsed off a sponge. They went back out to deal with the spillage. Ms Curtis told him to mop up with the paper towels, then she cleaned over the places where the milk had spilt with her sponge.

"You're looking very anxious, Harry," she said. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. When's Louis coming home?"

"Some time after dinner."

After dinner Harry went to have a shower, but Liam beat him to it. He stared at his homework again, still not getting much done. When he heard the bathroom door open he gathered his things and raced into the room. He undressed and turned the shower on. The hot water couldn't calm his thoughts, though. Questions from that afternoon kept repeating. Did he feel sad? Did he feel guilty? Did he deserve to be loved?

Back in his room, Harry packed up his books, knowing he'd get nothing further done that night. Instead he went and asked Ms Curtis for his sleeping pill.

"There's still another half hour to go, Harry."

"I want to go to bed."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Just feel a bit funny, that's all."

"Very well. Just for tonight."

Soon after he went to bed, Louis came home. He heard him talking to Ms Curtis in the main part of the house. Then he came into his and Harry's room. He switched the light on and Harry blinked.

"What are you doing in bed already?" asked Louis.

"I feel funny."

"I'll just get my stuff for the shower and then I'll switch the light off, all right?"

Harry didn't want him to go; he wanted Louis to come and cuddle him, even though he couldn't because of Harry's ribs. But he didn't say anything.

He was drifting off to sleep when Louis came back. He watched in the light coming through from the passage as Louis dumped his school clothes on the floor and began to leave.

"Louis?"

"Yeah, Curly?"

"Will you sing to me?"

Louis came over to him. "Shove over." He hopped up on the bed beside Harry. "What do you want me to sing?"

"Anything you like."

"I'll sing Elton John." Louis broke into the verse of 'Your Song'. Harry moved a hand up to touch Louis on the leg. He brought his face closer. Louis smelled so nice and comforting. He allowed Louis' voice to lull him to sleep.

***

Several days later he woke up to Louis kissing him on the cheek. "Wake up, baby, it's your birthday!"

Harry smiled and opened his eyes. Louis was lying beside him in bed. He didn't always stay next to Harry until the morning so Harry felt happy that he had on his birthday.

"Today's the day we go to get you a skateboard," sang Louis to the tune of 'Teddy Bears' Picnic'.

Harry wriggled with excitement. He hadn't been able to practice on Louis' board because of his ribs. It had been four weeks since Nat had beaten him up. It would be another two more weeks before he could go back to doing things as normal. He'd have a skateboard, but it would be two weeks before he was allowed to use it. Still, just having a skateboard would be thrilling.

Because he no longer had to give money to Nat, he'd saved forty pounds, plus he'd already had ten pounds saved up, so that made fifty pounds. With Ms Curtis' contribution, that should be more than enough. He might not have enough for a helmet yet, but he could save up for that. 

After school Ms Curtis got Janet to babysit Niall, Zayn and Liam, and took Louis and Harry out with her. Louis was going to help select a good board. He knew where the best skateboarding shop was and gave Ms Curtis directions.

"When have you been out this way before, Louis?" asked Ms Curtis.

"I used to come here when I was living at my last foster home. Turn at the next left. It's just along this street."

"How far along?"

"A few hundred feet."

"I should look out for a parking spot," said Ms Curtis. "We can walk up."

They turned the corner and quickly found a parking spot. Ms Curtis took it, even though she could probably get one closer, because it enabled her to drive straight in. Ms Curtis hated parking the van.

They walked along the pavement past other shops until they arrived at the skateboard shop. The store was painted red. 'Mick's Skateboards' read the signwriting above the entrance.

They walked in. The walls were covered in skateboards, their wheels facing outwards. In the centre of the store were shelves filled all sorts of gear and racks full of clothes to do with skateboarding. A television up on one wall was playing a skateboarding DVD. Two teenage boys were trying on shoes.

"Welcome," said the shop attendant at the counter just inside the door. He was reading a comic. "Need any help, just shout."

"Come on, Harry!" said Louis, scampering over to the nearest wall. "Look at them all."

Harry's eyes widened as he took in the astonishing variety of skateboards with their colourful designs. He wanted them all. How could he choose just one?

"Louis," said Ms Curtis, "all of these are awfully expensive."

"You have to pay for quality."

"Why don't we just go and buy one from the department store?"

"Because they're rubbish."

"We're definitely getting a department store helmet." She went up to the attendant behind the counter. "Where are your cheapest boards?"

"Over here, ma'am," said the attendant, leading the way to a wall they hadn't seen yet. "These are your basic entry-level skateboards. Good enough for the young lads."

"I'm just buying one."

"For me," added Harry.

"Yeah? This one here," the attendant reached up to pull a board down, "we don't stock from this supplier anymore. It's on thirty percent discount. A bargain."

"Let me see it," said Harry. The man showed it to him. It had a picture of a dragon in a blue and green theme, with yellow and red flames coming from his mouth. He liked it. He handed it over to Louis, who inspected it.

"How much is it?" Ms Curtis asked. Upon hearing the price, she looked relieved. "Oh, we can afford that."

"You won't get cheaper, ma'am. That's good quality for the price."

Harry looked at Louis, who had the final say. Louis had moved out into a bit of space and was spinning on the board. He did a flip, then kicked it up into his hand. "It's a good board," said Louis, handing it back to Harry.

"You're happy with it, Harry?" At Harry's enthusiastic nod, Ms Curtis said, "We'll take it."

"Anything else?"

"No, just the skateboard."

The attendant rang up the amount on the till and Ms Curtis, who had Harry's money, paid for it. Harry had enough left over for a cheap helmet. "Have fun with it," attendant told Harry. "Want a sticker?"

"Yes, please."

"Here, both of you, have a sticker." The attendant handed one each to Harry and Louis. The sticker was red and had 'Mick's Skateboards' and a skate logo on it.

After they left, they went to the the department store at their local mall. Harry didn't want to leave his skateboard in the van. What if someone stole it?

"I have a good alarm, Harry," said Ms Curtis. "No one's going to steal it." But Harry wasn't satisfied. "Fine, bring it with you. Keep a hold of it. Louis, you are not to ride it."

In the department store, Harry chose a blue and green helmet that matched the colours on his skateboard. Then they went home so that Ms Curtis could bake Harry's birthday cake. Harry proudly carried his new skateboard in and showed the boys. Even Janet said it was nice.

"Now remember, no riding it for another two weeks," said Ms Curtis.

Harry didn't know how he'd wait. But he had to.

He took his board out to the back verandah and placed it down on the ground at the top of the steps, using it as a seat. He wrapped his arms around his knees and looked out over the snow-encrusted garden. He was a proper skateboarder now. Well, maybe not quite. He still had to manage a three-sixty degree turn. He wondered how long it would take before he was as good as Louis, never mind as good as the skateboarders on Louis' Tony Hawk DVD. Probably years, but he was up to it. He wanted to travel to school each morning beside Louis. Would he be good enough by spring to be able to do that? If he couldn't practice because of the snow, he probably wouldn't be, but it was nice to fantasise.

The sliding door opened. "Bonding with your board?" asked Louis.

"Yes. I'm going to sleep with it tonight."

"Ms Curtis won't let you. Skateboards are dirty."

"This one isn't dirty. It's new."

"I don't think that argument will work." Louis stepped around him and sat down on the next step.

"I've been thinking about how we could skate to school together."

"Ms Curtis won't let you," repeated Louis. "You're too young."

"I'm nine, now. Besides, she lets you."

"She didn't exactly let me, she just found out one day I was doing it and I managed to convince her to let me keep doing it." Louis was fidgety as usual and now he jumped to his feet and leapt down the remaining steps. "Want to have a snow-fight?"

"No, I don't want to get wet."

"I dare you."

"Won't work," said Harry.

"How about if you dare me to do something?"

"Like what?"

"Think of something."

Harry looked around. What could he dare Louis to do? He stood up and walked down the steps. There was a thick layer of snow on the ground. Falling over in it would make you wet, but wouldn't hurt you. Harry looked back at the verandah. "I dare you... to jump off the roof."

"Okay," said Louis. 

There was a way to get on the roof. It involved climbing the garden bed at the side of the house, getting onto the fence, and stepping across the gate. It was risky but they'd all done it to fetch balls and the like, even though Ms Curtis always told them off when she heard them walking on the roof.

Harry and Louis went around to the side of the house. Harry watched as Louis hopped up on the garden bed, and hauled himself up to the fence. He stood on the fence, balancing himself, as he prepared to step across the gate. The gate always wobbled so was a little treacherous. Louis made it across onto the roof.

"Go back around," Louis instructed Harry. "You have to be my witness. Whoops." He slipped on a tile. "The roof's a little slippery."

"Be careful."

"I will." Louis began clambering across the roof towards the back of the house so Harry went back into the yard. He watched as Louis got closer to the edge and looked down. "Wow. I'm really going to do this."

"Maybe you shouldn't," said Harry, having second thoughts. What if he hurt himself?

"You dared me. I have to."

"What if I took it back?"

"No takebacks." Louis cupped his gloved hands together and blew on them. "Ready?" All bundled up in his beanie and coat, Louis suddenly looked very small, and the roof looked very far away from the ground.

Just then, Ms Curtis came out. "Is somebody on the roof?"

Harry glanced from Louis to Ms Curtis. "Um..."

"Why are you looking up there?" Ms Curtis came down the steps to where Harry was standing, and looked up. "Louis Tomlinson, get down here now! The roof's slippery from all the snow."

"Two witnesses," said Louis, and jumped.

He seemed to fall in slow motion. Harry had all the time in the world to watch as he flung his arms out to the side and bicycled his legs. Harry could feel his heart beating in his chest, feel the blood rushing.

Then Louis landed, and time began moving normally again.

"Louis!" cried Ms Curtis, running over to him. Louis had landed on his feet, and fallen onto his hands. Ms Curtis hauled him to his feet. "Louis, are you hurt?"

Louis popped up, grinning. "No, I'm fine. Did you see that, Harry? I jumped off the roof!"

Ms Curtis shook him. "What were you thinking? You could have seriously hurt yourself."

"But I didn't."

"But you could have. Don't you have any common sense? What am I going to do with you?"

"I'm Tommo the Terror. You can't do nothing with me."

"I can ground you," said Ms Curtis.

"No way!" protested Louis. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't even know what to say to that. You're grounded too, Harry. I'm sure you were encouraging him."

"But it's Harry's birthday."

"He's still grounded. As are you. One week. Now come inside, where I can keep an eye on you."

Louis still looked exhilarated. He bounced into the house ahead of Ms Curtis and addressed the three boys sitting on the couch watching TV. "Guess what? I just jumped off the roof!"

"You couldn't have," said Zayn.

"I did, didn't I, Ms Curtis?"

"He did," said Ms Curtis grimly. "None of you are ever to try a stunt like that again or you'll be grounded for the rest of your life. Louis, Harry, go watch television."

"But I don't like this show," said Louis.

"Too bad. You're watching television. I'm going to finish cooking dinner."

Louis flung himself down on the empty couch, the not-so-good one that had a side-view of the TV. Harry sat beside him.

"Did you really jump off the roof? Why?" said Liam.

"Harry dared me."

"You never, Harry."

Harry squirmed. "I tried to take it back. He wouldn't let me."

"Cool, man," said Zayn to Louis. "I can't believe you didn't break your legs. You're a proper daredevil."

"Don't encourage him, Zayn!" called Ms Curtis.

Niall, who'd been dumbstruck until this point, chimed in. "You're so crazy," he said to Louis.

"I'm Tommo the Terror. I'll do anything!"

"Louis!" called Ms Curtis. "Do you want to be grounded for two weeks?"

"No," said Louis.

"Stop talking about it right now."

Louis was on a high for the rest of the night. He was chatting, laughing, making jokes, teasing all of the boys. They played a board game after Harry's birthday dinner of lasagne and Louis won, putting him into even more of a good mood. He hugged Zayn, ruffled Harry's and Niall's hair, and kissed a scandalised Liam. He radiated joy. Harry thought this was how Louis would be all the time, if he still had his family. They didn't talk about it much but Harry knew he missed his sisters desperately.

That night, Louis crawled into Harry's bed when he first came to bed, instead of later at night, after he'd checked the house. "Wake me up when it's time to check," he murmured as Harry woke up to the shifting mattress. But Harry didn't wake up. He slept right through, safe with Louis.

***

It was Louis' turn to see the psychologist. Louis was quiet the day before. The morning of the appointment he begged Ms Curtis to change it. Harry heard them in the kitchen when he went to breakfast. Ms Curtis refused. "Remember, straight home after school."

Louis came out to see Harry and Niall seated at the table. He went up to Harry. "What happened with the psychologist when you saw her?"

Harry glanced at Niall. He didn't want to talk about it in front of Niall. "I'll tell you later."

"It can't be too much later, the appointment's this afternoon."

"When I finish breakfast."

"I'll be outside," said Louis, opening the sliding door and going out. Harry watched him as he fetched his skateboard and began practicing tricks. He always went to his skateboard when he was worried about something. He'd forgotten his coat but he had his beanie on. He wore his beanie nearly all the time in winter. Harry liked Louis in a because he didn't gel his hair up which made it nice and soft to stroke.

When Harry finished eating, he fetched his coat and went out the sliding door. Louis looked up. Relief spread across his features. "You're going to tell me about the psychologist?"

"Yes. Let's sit down."

Louis dropped down to sit on his skateboard. Harry fetched his own and placed it in front of Louis before sitting himself down. "It's all lots of questions," he told Louis.

"What kind of questions?"

"It starts off easy. About your family, about school, about friends. Then she starts asking weird questions, like whether you wet the bed, and if you hear voices. Then it gets hard."

"How can it be hard? It's not a test, is it?"

"It's worse than a test. She asks all sorts of questions. About how you feel. If you think people are out to get you. If you have enough friends. In one section I had to agree or disagree with things she said. Like, for example, did I deserve to be loved."

"I don't want to answer that," said Louis.

Neither had Harry. He'd hung his head and had to admit that, no, he didn't feel he deserved to be loved. "There's lots of questions you won't want to answer but you have to be as honest as possible or the results won't be right and she won't give you the right kind of help."

"I don't need any kind of help. I don't know why Ms Curtis wants me to do this, unless she's punishing me."

"Do you think she was punishing me?"

"No. She likes you. You're all sweet and Harryish."

"She likes you, too," said Harry.

"She tolerates me. It's not the same thing."

"She's always nice to you, even when you're naughty. She doesn't yell that much and she never hits you."

"I tell you, she just tolerates me," said Louis. "She wishes she had a better boy. Another you."

"She doesn't," insisted Harry, but Louis wouldn't be convinced. He tried to think of something to make Louis believe him, but he couldn't. Instead he said, "Guess what? It's six weeks since Nat bashed me up."

"Why are you thinking about that?"

"My ribs have healed. You can hug me now."

Louis raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh can I?"

Harry stood up. "Yes. You promised."

"I'm not in the mood for hugging."

"It'll make you feel better. Come on."

Louis sighed and stood in front of Harry. "Curly, Curly," he said.

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' middle and buried his head in his neck. After a moment, Louis' arms came up, and he squeezed Harry back. Harry breathed in deeply. Louis always smelled so good. "I missed you," he said.

"I didn't go anywhere, silly."

"Six weeks without cuddles. You may as well have."

"You're such a snuggly monkey," said Louis. After another tight squeeze of Harry's body, he loosened his grip. "Let go of me now." 

Harry did so. "We can cuddle in bed tonight."

"Shh. Someone might hear." Louis stepped back. "Let's go inside. It's freezing out here."

Later that afternoon Louis came home from the psychologist's looking stunned. He beckoned Harry up from the TV and into their room. Once in their room, he told Harry about the appointment. He said it was every bit as bad as Harry had said it would be. He was very subdued for the rest of the evening. Harry wondered if thoughts were going around in his head the way they had been in Harry's.

Later that night, after they'd checked the house, he snuggled into Louis in Louis' bed for the first time in ages. It felt so good to be able to hug him that he found himself squirming, trying to get as close as possible.

"You're a wriggly monkey tonight," said Louis.

"I can't help it."

"Careful."

"What?"

"You're rubbing against my dick."

Harry could feel something pressing into his thigh. He stilled. "Sorry."

"I just wanted to warn you, that's all. It keeps going hard all the time. It's my hormones."

"What do you mean, hard?"

"I mean a hard-on, silly," said Louis. "You must have got them before. Your dick swells up and goes hard."

"I've had that before," admitted Harry. "I thought there was something wrong with me." He'd been feeling horribly guilty about it because sometimes it happened with Louis when they were hugging. 

Like right now. A warm feeling rushed into his groin. Harry pulled his legs away from Louis', shivering a little. 

"There's nothing wrong with you," said Louis. "It's just hormones."

"Aren't I too young to get hormones?"

"You're too young to go through puberty, yeah. But you have hormones in your body right now. It's just that there's more of them when you reach puberty. You'll find out all about it in Year Six. They separate you into boys and girls and give you a talk."

"What do they talk to you about?"

"They tell you what's going to happen to your body. How you get hairs in your armpits and on your balls. How your dick grows bigger." He giggled. "They talked about masturbation."

"What's that?"

"It's when you play with your dick and it gets hard and if you're old enough it shoots stuff out."

Harry felt daunted by the prospect. He'd heard of masturbation but only had a vague understanding about it. "Play with it?"

"It feels good. You're not supposed to feel guilty about it."

"Have you done it before?"

"Harry, you're asking too many questions. Go to sleep."

Harry tucked his head into Louis' neck and obeyed.

***

Winter rolled into spring. Louis began skateboarding to school again. Louis kept teaching him, and Harry practiced and practiced and slowly got better. It was frustrating, though, because Ms Curtis wouldn't let him leave the street outside their house. Not that he was allowed to skateboard in the street. He had to stay on the pavement.

He got to visit Gemma a couple of times. Meanwhile, Louis began hanging out with a different group of people at school. He was still seeing Marissa. Harry was still seeing Melody. Sometimes he sat with her during break and held her hand. He got teased about it, but it didn't matter. Melody's hands were soft. Louis' were roughened from handling his skateboard so much. Hugging Melody was different to hugging Louis, too. He did it a couple of times. He liked it, but not as much as he liked hugging Louis. He couldn't imagine being closer to anyone than he was with Louis. 

He got closer to Niall, Zayn and Liam, too. They really felt like brothers. Ms Curtis almost felt like a mum. Sure, he argued with the boys sometimes; sometimes they annoyed him and sometimes he wished he was an only child, but living in a small house with so many people with five people sharing one bathroom could take its toll. Even at his maddest, he was grateful to have Ms Curtis and the boys. He was doing well at school, no longer falling asleep in class. The doctor had taken him off the sleeping pills and everything. He'd finished his sessions with the psychologist. She'd taught him some useful things, like how to do relaxation. He practiced relaxation while Louis was checking the house at night. It helped him fall asleep quickly when he got into bed with Louis. He stopped relying so much on Monkey. Monkey stayed in bed now more often than not.

Ms Curtis had a harder time. She had to keep paying out money for things. First, the toilet backed up and they had to get a plumber out to fix it. Then the fridge broke. When the oven went next, they were nearly in trouble because Ms Curtis didn't have enough money to get it fixed. She had to borrow money for a new one. Louis said it was Niall's fault the oven broke because he ate so much but he was only joking.

"Would you ever call Ms Curtis mum?" Harry asked Louis one night when they were in bed together.

"You're not thinking about it, are you?"

"She's like a mum to us." Liam had taken to calling her mum. Harry had even heard Niall and Zayn refer to her as mum a couple of times.

"I'll never have another mother," said Louis.

"But we're like your family."

"I have a family. When I'm old enough, I'm going to get my sisters and get a house and look after them myself."

"What about me?"

"You can come too, silly monkey," said Louis, squeezing him. "I'll look after you as well."

But it had to happen. One morning they didn't wake up and Ms Curtis found them together.

"Harry, Louis, time to get up." 

Harry blinked awake. He was all warm, with Louis' arm around him. He looked over at Louis. He was awake, too, and had a shocked expression on his face.

"Why are you in bed together?" asked Ms Curtis.

"We're not," said Louis, withdrawing his arm from around Harry.

"I have nightmares," said Harry. "Louis keeps me safe."

"You still have nightmares?"

"Well, not so much any more. But that's because of Louis."

Harry could feel the change in Louis' body beside him. He had stiffened up, and now pulled away from Harry and sat up. "I'm getting up," he mumbled. "Harry, you're in the way."

"Climb over me, then."

"Harry, get out."

Harry looked at him. He looked scared. Harry didn't understand what he had to be scared about, but he got out of bed, anyway.

"Make sure you hurry up," said Ms Curtis, leaving the room.

"Louis? Are you mad at me?"

"No." Louis made his bed, not looking around.

"You're acting funny."

"Go to breakfast."

"But-"

"I said, go to breakfast."

Harry put on his slippers and, glancing back over his shoulder, began to leave. As he reached the doorway he saw Louis kick the leg of the bed. He must be embarrassed that they'd been caught together by Ms Curtis, thought Harry.

He didn't think much more of it until that night. Louis had gone over to Marissa's house so he didn't get to see him until just before he went to bed. Louis acted a little distant, but Harry paid it no mind. Louis got into moods sometimes; he was used to it. 

Everything seemed fine between them when he woke Louis up to check the house. Louis patted him and picked up the torch and went off to do the rounds. Harry got into Louis' bed and waited. He'd started falling asleep by the time Louis got back. Louis shook him on the shoulder. 

"Harry. You can't sleep here tonight."

Harry blinked up at him. 

"I'm serious, Harry. You have to get out."

"Why?"

"Because we can't do this any more."

"Why not?"

"Because...." Louis paused. "Because it's wrong."

"Who says?" asked Harry.

"People say. We're too old to be sleeping together. And Ms Curtis caught us."

"She doesn't care. Why are you being so silly?"

"I care. It's babyish, sleeping together."

"But I am a baby," whined Harry.

"I'm not," said Louis. "I'm eleven. Far too old to be sleeping with my baby brother. Come on, get up." He grabbed Harry by the arm. "Go to your own bed."

Bewildered, Harry allowed Louis to pull him up. He sat on the side of the bed and looked at Louis, trying to see if it was all a joke. But Louis wasn't joking. He hauled Harry to his feet and pushed him. "Go on."

"But-"

"Go on." Louis got into bed. Harry stood watching him for a while. "Get into bed, Harry."

Harry did. He found Monkey and chewed his ear, looking over at Louis. The curtains were open and moonlight flooded the room. He could see Louis lying under his covers. Louis shifted about. He was restless.

"Louis?"

"Go to sleep."

But Harry couldn't. Not for a long time.

***  
Louis still acted normally with him during the day. Louis still tried to teach him skateboarding tricks, still hugged him, still acted like the best big brother ever. It was just at night that things were different. Louis still checked the house, but he wouldn't let Harry get into his bed. When Harry tried to sneak in, he gently but firmly threw him out. Once Harry counted down an hour to make certain that Louis was asleep, then went and lay down on top of the covers next to him. But Louis had been awake, and he pushed Harry off. Harry didn't understand. Louis tossed and turned for ages after checking the house. Surely he missed Harry just as much as Harry missed him?

All Harry's fears came flooding back. He lay awake at nights, terrified. He started sleeping under Louis' bed again to calm himself. If Louis knew about it, he didn't say anything.

Worst of all, he began falling asleep at school again. Mr Foster asked him to stay after class one day and looked at him with concern. "Harry, this is getting to be a problem again."

"I know."

"What's happening? Is something worrying you, stressing you?"

"Not exactly."

"Problems at home? You can tell me."

"No, no problems at home."

"At school, then," said Mr Foster. "I've noticed you getting a bit of teasing for playing with Melody."

"It's no big deal. I can handle it." 

"Harry, I don't know what to do to help you. I'm going to have to talk with your foster mother again."

"Please don't."

"We fixed you up last time. We can fix you up again."

Ms Curtis was dismayed to hear Harry was having sleep problems again. She took him to the doctor, who again prescribed sleeping pills. The pills bothered Harry. When he was awake at night, listening to the house, the pills kept trying to take him over. He had to sit up in bed, with the blankets around him, to make sure he didn't fall asleep until it was time to go under Louis' bed. 

Ms Curtis tried to talk to him again about it, because the pills weren't helping very much. "Is everything okay at school?"

"Yes."

"Do you have enough friends? You're not lonely just being friends with Niall and Zayn and Liam?"

"No, I have other friends too. Melody, Callum, Tom-" he listed the names of other people he sometimes hung out with, when he wanted to play football or do something different. Harry, despite himself, had become popular. People just seemed to like him.

"Is everything all right at home?"

Harry nodded.

"How are you and Louis getting on?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? Do you still sleep with him at night?" Harry startled. Ms Curtis looked soothingly at him. "I know you sleep together a lot. I check on you in the early mornings sometimes."

"Not any more," said Harry.

"Does that mean you're not as scared at night anymore?"

Harry hung his head. "No, I'm still scared."

"Why does Louis walk around the house at night with a torch?" asked Ms Curtis.

"To check for intruders."

"Harry, we have safety screens and window locks. No one can get in."

"But what if they did?"

"Why are you so afraid of intruders? Did something happen when you were younger?"

"I used to get monsters in my room," said Harry. "Mum and Dad were the only ones who could chase them away."

"But you're not frightened of monsters anymore. You're frightened of people."

"There's some bad people around."

"I know, Harry, but they can't get you."

But Harry knew they could. He knew it, just as surely as his old foster father used to come into his room at night and beat him. Harry hadn't thought about it too much for a while, but now with endless hours to kill at night, the images were coming back to haunt him.

"Do you want to see the psychologist again?" said Ms Curtis. "I can't really afford it, but if there's no other way we can get you to sleep..."

"No, I don't want to."

"You've started carrying Monkey around again. She helped with that, didn't she?"

"No, it was Louis who helped."

"Why can't Louis help now?"

"He thinks I'm a baby."

"Oh honey, did he say that?"

Harry didn't want to get Louis into trouble. "I was being a baby. I deserved it."

"You don't deserve it. You're a wonderful little boy, not a baby at all."

"I wish I was still a baby. Then mum and dad would be alive." Harry felt himself suddenly tearing up. Lack of sleep was making him emotional. 

Ms Curtis noticed. She pulled him into her lap for a hug. "Poor boy."

They stayed like that for a while, Ms Curtis with her arms around him, Harry trying not to let the tears fall. He won the battle. 

"What am I going to do with you?" said Ms Curtis.

Harry had no answer for her. 

Later that evening Harry, extremely tired, headed to bed early. As he entered the bedroom, he tripped and fell over something. It was Louis' clothes, dropped in a bundle on the floor. On Harry's side of the room.

"Louis!" he yelled, picking himself up.

Louis was doing homework at the desk. "What?"

"I just fell over your stupid clothes!"

"You should look where you're going."

"No, you should keep your stupid clothes on your side of the room."

"They are on my side of the room," said Louis.

"These ones aren't. They weren't here before. I know because I would have noticed."

"Chuck them over my side if they're bothering you."

Harry looked at Louis' side of the room. It was a mess, with clothes everywhere, clean and dirty, dumped into piles on the floor. Harry had no idea how he knew which clothes were which. "I don't know which pile to put them on."

"Then leave them. I'll pick them up later, when I've finished this."

"No. I've had enough."

Louis swung around and looked at him properly. "What are you so mad about?"

"I tripped over your clothes!"

"Someone needs to go beddy-byes."

"You're a pig. You just drop stuff on the floor all the time. Look." Harry pointed. "You've even got a plate on the floor. We're not supposed to eat in our rooms."

"Harry, settle down. You're going red."

"I need to go to sleep. But I can't sleep. I lie awake at night for hours. I'm so scared and you're not helping me! Get out of the room. I want to sleep."

Surprisingly, Louis picked up his homework. He looked back over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "Chill out, Harry."

"I can't chill out. I'm going crazy."

"Do you want me to sing for you?"

"No. I want you to go away."

Louis left without another word, closing the door behind him. Harry put his pyjamas on and got into bed. But he was so riled up he couldn't sleep. He lay there and stewed over Louis. Louis had been so calm. Like he didn't even care that Harry was upset.

"I hate you, Louis," he muttered.

***

Harry was woken up by someone coming into the room. It was late at night; everyone should be asleep. Then he looked at the shape in the doorway and knew.

His foster father turned the light on. "Where are you, boy?"

Harry cowered under the bedclothes. "Please don't hurt me."

"Margie told me what you did. She told me you failed your Maths test. You need to get what you deserve." The man had obviously been out to the pub; as he got closer Harry could tell he reeked of alcohol. He was undoing his belt. "Get up."

"No."

"Get up or it'll be worse for you."

But Harry was too frightened to move. The man left off his belt for the moment and yanked at Harry's hair. "I said, get up." Harry yelled in pain but the man didn't let go. He hauled Harry out of bed onto the floor. "Stand up. Stand up and turn around."

"Please don't."

"Do as I say, boy!"

Harry tried to get to his feet but he was trembling too much and his arms wouldn't push off the ground properly. 

"Fine. Stay there on the ground, like the dog you are." The man lifted his arm, belt in hand, and brought it down. It hit Harry across the shoulders. He was only wearing pyjama pants so the belt hit him directly on his flesh. The man lifted his arm again. "We feed you, clothe you, educate you, and for what? So you can be a failure? You no good son of a bitch. You're going to hit those books hard every night from now on." He punctuated this by a slash across Harry's back. 

Harry yelped. "I didn't mean to."

"You're a lazy, good for nothing son of a bitch, aren't you?" He began beating Harry with vigour. "You're nothing, a worthless waste of fucking space." 

Harry cried out with each blow. The belt was moving across already-bruised flesh from earlier beatings around his ribs. He tried to curl up into a ball as the man beat and beat him. His nerve endings sung out with pain. Was he ever going to stop? He was going to be killed. "Please," he pleaded. "Please."

Harry woke up, whimpering, saying 'please' over and over again. He gasped in shock at suddenly finding himself in bed, in a different room. This room was quiet and still, with no sounds except for Louis' breath. Harry clutched Monkey tightly to himself. Tears burst from his eyes. He'd just relived a memory. It had been so real. He could still feel the belt across his ribs.

"Louis!" he cried out, before remembering he was supposed to be mad at Louis. But the anger had faded, leaving behind only need. "Louis!"

Louis stirred. "Harry? Is it time?"

"Louis, he was beating me. He was beating me and I could feel it. I didn't mean to fail the Maths test."

"What are you on about?" But Louis got up and came over.

"The Maths test. I failed it."

"Hush, baby. I think you had a nightmare." Louis sat on the edge of his bed and petted him on the shoulder. Harry surged up and flung himself into Louis' arms. Monkey squashed between them.

"It was so real," he sobbed.

"Shit. You haven't had a nightmare in ages." Louis' arms draped comfortingly around his back and he rocked him from side to side. "What brought it on?"

"Louis, I can't do it anymore."

"Can't do what anymore?"

"Everything. I can't do it. I can't do anything."

Louis continued to rock him. "Don't cry, baby."

"But you're just going to leave me again."

"I'm not going anywhere. Shh."

Eventually, Harry calmed. His face was wet. So was Louis' pyjama top. Harry sniffled.

"Do you want a tissue?" said Louis.

"Yes, please." 

Louis let go of him and reached for the tissue box on the desk. "Here. All the tissues you could want."

Harry took a couple and blew his nose. "I'm sorry, I think I got snot on you."

"It's okay." He had his arm around Harry. The warmth from Louis' body contrasted with the chilly night air. Harry dabbed at Louis' top with a handful of tissues. "Don't worry about it." Louis sat with Harry until his breathing evened out. "Are you okay? Do you want me to go check the house?"

"Yes, check the house," said Harry, although right now he had things on his mind other than intruders. He waited anxiously for Louis to come back. He sighed with relief when he saw the torchlight through the bedroom door once again. Louis came in and put the torch beside his bed. He came back over to Harry. 

"Everything's fine." He sat down next to Harry again.

"Do you really think I'm a baby?"

"Yes, but you're my baby."

"I'm serious."

"No, I don't think you're a baby," Louis said, sliding an arm around Harry again. "What's brought this on? What was your nightmare about?"

"My foster father. He was beating me, just like it happened in real life. When I failed my Maths test."

"I got that bit."

"Louis..."

"Yeah?"

Do you love me, Harry wanted to say. But he couldn't. What if the answer was no? He hitched his breath. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier."

"It's okay. It was my fault. I am a pig. Here, lie down." Harry obeyed and Louis brought his hand up to his hair and stroked. "I won't let anything hurt you."

"You hurt me."

"I'm sorry. I'm not perfect."

"I don't need you to be perfect," said Harry. "I need you to be you. Otherwise, I mean it, I can't do it anymore."

"You said that. What do you mean?"

Harry sniffled. "I mean, I may as well crawl into a hole and die. Everything sucks."

"Come on, if you crawled into a hole and died there'd be a lot of sad people."

"But it won't matter to me, if I'm dead."

Louis stilled his hand in Harry's hair, then brought his arms around to hug Harry. "Don't talk like that."

"It's how I feel."

"What can I do?"

"You won't do it," said Harry resignedly.

"I will. Tell me."

"Sleep with me?" whispered Harry. He held his breath.

Louis sighed. "Harry, we've got to find a solution for this."

"It's the only way I can get to sleep."

Louis hesitated, then sighed again. "Move over."

Harry's heart leapt. Was Louis getting into bed with him? Sure enough, Louis lifted the covers and slid under. Harry bundled himself into Louis' arms immediately. He'd missed this so much. He couldn't get enough.

"You're going all snuggly monkey on me," said Louis.

"I missed you."

"We can't keep doing this. Otherwise, when will it stop?"

"It doesn't have to ever stop."

"You're not being realistic," said Louis, but he squeezed Harry to take the sting out of his words. Harry nuzzled into his neck. For the first time in weeks, he fell asleep in the middle of the night.

***

The school year ended, and they had the excitement and boredom of the summer holidays, before school started up again. Louis was in high school now; no longer would they be at the same school. The high school was in a completely different direction to the primary school, towards the mall, so they couldn't even walk together.

Harry slept in Louis' bed every night. His sleep had improved dramatically.

Louis was enjoying high school. He got selected for the football team and was estatic. He raved about Coach Morrison.

"He thinks I've got potential," Louis told Ms Curtis. "He wants me to stay back at football practice and do extra training. He thinks I might have what it takes to make it."

"When's this extra training happening?"

"On Wednesday after football practice."

"I don't know. I don't like the idea of you coming home so late."

"Please, Ms Curtis. He's hand-picked me out of all the Year Sevens."

"I suppose I can't say no. All right, Louis. But just on Wednesdays."

"Thank you. It'll be good for me, you'll see."

And it really did seem to be. Louis was much more settled than when Harry first came to the house. He didn't get into trouble anywhere near as often.

The only downside was that Louis was less interested in skateboarding. He still skateboarded to school but that was it. He was more likely to be found kicking a football at the makeshift goal in the back yard than on his skateboard. He practiced for hours. He was really gone on football. He coaxed Harry, who wasn't very good, into being a keeper. Sometimes the rest of the boys would join in, making a proper game of it, two against two, with Harry the keeper. Harry didn't mind being the keeper. He knew no one else wanted to do it.

Coach Morrison confided in Louis, and Louis confided in Harry. "He's not like other teachers. He's really cool. If he's on duty, he'll come and kick a football around with us." And, "Coach Morrison says I'm one of the best raw talents he's ever coached. He wants me to join the under-thirteens team he coaches on the weekend. Ms Curtis says she can't afford the fees so Coach Morrison is going to pay for me. He'll pick me up and drop me back home, too." Sometimes the information was more personal. "He's sad a lot right now."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"He's going through a break-up."

"How do you know?"

"He told me. He says I cheer him up with my jokes."

Harry got to meet Coach Morrison on the first Saturday he came to take Louis to football. He was a younger man with blond hair and a friendly face. Ms Curtis invited him in. 

"Where's Louis?" asked Coach Morrison.

"He's just getting changed. He'll be out in a couple of minutes."

"I must say, he's an excellent kid. He's sharp, he's alert, and he's damn quick on his feet. It's a pleasure to train him."

Ms Curtis looked glad that someone was saying nice things about Louis for once. "He tries very hard. He's out practicing for hours every day."

"Rewards come to hard workers."

"So, this under-thirteens team. Will he actually get a start? You'd have lots of twelve year olds."

"I make sure all my kids get an even chance, Ms Curtis. It's important in building teamwork."

Coach Morrison was very big on teamwork. He gave Ms Curtis quite a lecture.

"Any other talents around the house?" he asked, looking at Harry who was examining him over the top of a book. "How about you, young man?"

"Me?" said Harry. "I'm the keeper."

Coach Morrison laughed. "I guess you're saying you're short on talent. They're always the ones that get stuck with being the keeper."

Just then Louis entered the room, all dressed in his outfit, gleaming white shorts and purple top with the word 'Raiders' on it and a pair of football boots Ms Curtis had got from charity. "Coach!" he exclaimed. 

"Louis! Good to see you. Are you ready to go, champ?"

"Yep."

"Does the young fellow want to come and watch?" asked Coach Morrison, indicating Harry. "It'll be fun."

"Harry?" said Ms Curtis. "I don't know. He's a bit young."

"Nonsense. I'll look after him. Would you like to come, young man?"

"Yes please," said Harry.

Ms Curtis looked uncertain.

"Come on, Ms Curtis," said Louis impatiently. "There'll be loads of families around. He won't get into any trouble."

"I promise I'll take the best care of him," said Coach Morrison. "We're all family down at the Raiders. He can sit with the Robinsons. They've got a boy about his age."

"Well... okay. But you have to promise to be on your best behaviour, Harry."

"I promise."

"Drop them staight back home afterwards," said Ms Curtis.

"Sure will, ma'am. Come on, boys. Let's go. The coach can't be late."

There were four football pitches. Boys ran around on three of them. The one they stopped at had a few boys playing kick to kick. Along the sideline sat family groups. 

"Jason!" called Coach Morrison. The boys on the pitch turned around and jogged over. "Glad to see you warming up. This is Louis. He's joining the team."

"You go to my school," said Jason, a stocky boy with close-cropped hair and a serious face. "You're in Year Seven. I'm in Year Eight."

"Yeah, I've seen you around," said Louis.

"This is Chad, Bryan, and Sohail," Coach Morrison introduced the other boys. "Why don't you boys all warm up together while I deal with this fellow?" The coach indicated Harry.

"Okay. Come on, Louis," said Jason. "Let's see what you're made of."

More boys began turning up as the coach took Harry over to a family group on the sidelines. "This is the Robinsons. Mr Robinson, this is Harry. He's the foster brother of one of my boys."

"Hello," said Harry.

"Hello, Harry," said Mr Robinson. "This is my wife, and this is my son Ryan. He's nine."

"I'm nine too."

"Cool," said Ryan, who had a shock of brown hair.

"Would you mind looking after Harry during the game?" asked Coach Morrison. "He doesn't have a parent with him."

"Of course. Come and sit down, Harry." 

Coach Morrison left and Harry sat down with the family. "Which one's your brother?" asked Mr Robinson.

"He's new. He's the boy on the right, the shorter one. Louis."

"That's my Jason next to him. He's a good kid. He'll look out for your Louis."

It seemed all the boys had arrived by now for the coach called them all together and began to give them a last minute pep talk. Then eleven boys ran out onto the pitch and took up their positions. Louis wasn't one of them. He sat on the sidelines with several other boys.

Coach Morrison rotated his players and soon it was Louis' turn to take the field. He ran out and lined up on an opposition player. He was quickly involved in the game, intercepting a pass from one of his teammates and running with it before being approached by the opposition, when he passed it off. He looked like he fit right in. Harry was proud of him.

Louis didn't score a goal or anything, but he got plenty of field time. Coach Morrison had been telling the truth when he said everyone got an even chance. Harry knew enough about football to know that Louis was definitely the best out of the younger players. At the end of the game, which they won, Coach Morrison picked Louis out, bent down, and gave him a hug. He didn't hug any of the other boys. Louis was obviously special to him. Harry ran up to him as he came off the pitch. 

"You were good," he said.

"You think so?" said Louis, bright-eyed and flushed from the game.

"The best."

"Hardly the best. But I did okay for my first game. I'll do better when I get to know the team more."

"Do you do training?" said Harry.

"Every Thursday."

"How will you get there?"

"Coach Morrison will pick me up and drop me home."

"Does he do that for a lot of boys?"

"No," said Louis proudly. "Just for me."

They were one of the last to leave. They helped Coach Morrison carry things to the car and then hopped in. Louis was in the front seat, Harry behind him.

"Who wants icecream?" asked Coach Morrison.

"Me!" they both yelled.

"We'll stop by the icecream place on the way home. Your Ms Curtis doesn't have to know." He winked at Louis. Louis grinned back.

The coach paid for both their icecreams, and one for himself. They sat at a table out the front, in the sun, to eat them. 

"You did well, Louis, for your first game with an unfamiliar team. I'm very pleased with you."

"I had fun."

"More fun than you have with me?" asked the coach teasingly.

"I could never have more fun than I have with you," Louis bantered back. 

Coach Morrison laughed. He and Louis had a good rapport. They made jokes back and forth at each other. Harry was gratified to see Louis so happy. It looked like Coach Morrison was good for him.

He dropped them off back home and they ran inside to tell Ms Curtis about their morning. She looked pleased to see them both so happy. They didn't tell her about the icecream.

***

It became a weekly ritual, Harry going to the game with them. Harry sat with Ryan Robinson and his family and struck up a friendship. Meanwhile, Louis had become good friends with Jason, even going so far as to hang out with him and his friends at school. 

"They tolerate a Year Seven I think because I make them laugh," Louis explained to Harry.

"You make me laugh." 

Louis pulled a funny face at him and, on cue, Harry laughed. He genuinely thought Louis was the funniest person around. Louis had come so much out of his shell since becoming involved with the Saturday football team.

He still did special training on Wednesdays. One evening he came home unwell. He said it was nothing much, but he was short-tempered and went to bed early. The next day he was the same.

"Maybe you should stay home from school," said Ms Curtis. "You don't want to spread your germs around."

So Louis stayed home from school that Thursday. On Friday he went, but on Saturday he asked Ms Curtis to call Coach Morrison; he didn't feel well enough to go to football.

"What's the matter?" asked Ms Curtis, concerned. "You've been sick for a few days now."

"Nothing's the matter," snapped Louis. "I just don't want to go to football, that's all."

"No need to be snippy, young man. I'll call your coach."

Some time after the game was due to be finished, a knock came on the door. It was Coach Morrison. "I haven't seen Louis since Wednesday. I'm just checking to make sure he's all right."

"I'll get him for you. Louis! It's your coach!"

Louis came out of the bedroom. He looked like he had leaden weights on his legs. "Hi," he said shortly.

"Louis, can we talk somewhere?"

Louis indicated the sliding door. "Out on the verandah."

Harry was curious as to what they were talking about but he couldn't hear their conversation from inside. He went outside, ostensibly to get his skateboard.

Coach Morrison had his hand on Louis' knee. They broke off their conversation and looked at Harry.

"I just came to get my skateboard," he said.

"Take it around to the front of the house," instructed Louis.

Harry guessed he didn't want anyone eavesdropping. He took his board out to the driveway and practiced tricks. Soon afterwards, Coach Morrison left the house.

"Hello, Harry," he said, walking up to his car.

"What were you talking about?"

"Secret men's business," he winked at Harry. "You look like you're pretty clever on that skateboard."

"I'm still learning," said Harry.

"Keep up the good work. I'll see you next Saturday."

***

That night was the first night since Tuesday that Louis let Harry sleep with him.

"You're not germy anymore?" said Harry.

"I was never that kind of sick," said Louis.

"What kind of sick were you?"

"Just sick to my stomach."

"I missed you." Harry nuzzled into him.

"Harry, I'm not as wonderful as you think I am."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not," insisted Louis. "I'm damaged goods."

"What does that mean?"

"I look okay on the outside, but inside I'm all broken up."

Harry poked his head up, trying to see Louis' face in the dark. He could only make out a vague impression of Louis. "It doesn't matter to me."

"It should. I'll lead you into bad ways."

"I'll follow wherever you lead," sang Harry.

"I'm being serious. You're so sweet and innocent. I'm a bad person. You shouldn't bother with me."

"Louis, why are you talking like this?"

"It's best you know the truth about me."

"I already know the truth about you."

Louis stiffened. "You can't."

Harry petted him. "I know you're my Louis and I love you."

Louis sighed and squeezed him tight for a reply. They lay together in silence for a while.

"I'm sort of broken, too," whispered Harry.

"Don't, Harry. You're not broken."

"I am. I don't know why you bother with me."

"Because you're Harry and you're sunshine and icecream and everything that's good in the world."

"I'm not," confessed Harry. "I'm a bad person, too."

"You're not. Don't say that."

"It's true," whispered Harry.

"Baby," Louis stroked Harry's hair, "what have they done to you?"

They fell silent again. The only sound was their breathing, and the faint flutter of Louis' hand through Harry's hair. Harry wanted to be a good person. He wanted to be what Louis thought he was, sunshine and icecream. But a small part of himself wouldn't stop telling him he was no good.

***  
Louis and Ms Curtis were arguing.

"Why can't I?" said Louis.

"Because you've been out late every night this week. I let you go out Monday and Tuesday. You had football on Wednesday and Thursday. You can spend this afternoon at home for once."

"But I've got all weekend to spend at home."

"Louis, you're not going out after school today, and that's final."

Louis kicked the table leg. 

"Louis!"

He kicked the table leg again, and thumped his fist on top of the table. "You're not being fair."

"Louis, control yourself. Stop hitting and kicking things."

"No, I won't." He thumped the table again. "I want to go out."

"You see Jason at school all day. You see him on Thursday afternoons and Saturday afternoons. I think you can live one afternoon without seeing him."

Louis roared, swung about, and slammed out the sliding door. 

Ms Curtis sat down at the breakfast table with Harry and Zayn. "It must be puberty."

"That's how you act when you're in puberty?" said Zayn.

"I can't think of any other reason for him to be so moody lately. Harry, do you know anything?"

"No," said Harry.

"You'd tell me if you knew there was something bothering him, wouldn't you?"

Harry didn't want to lie. He bit his lip and said nothing. 

"Harry. It's for his own good, I promise."

"I don't know anything. He just thinks he's a bad person, that's all."

"He said this to you?"

"Yes. One night. Don't tell him I told you." Harry wouldn't have told, but he was worried about Louis lately. He hadn't been himself.

"I won't." Ms Curtis put her hand up to her face and sighed. "What am I going to do with him? He's never been violent before."

"You wouldn't give him away, would you?" asked Harry.

"What?" Ms Curtis looked shocked. "No, of course not."

It was a niggle at the back of his mind; if he wasn't good, she'd give him away. Harry was relieved to hear she wouldn't give away Louis. That meant she was unlikely to give him away, too. 

***

Harry woke on Wednesday night, still in his own bed. It was before the time he normally woke up. Something had disturbed him. Heart pounding with fear, he strained to hear what was going on outside the room. 

But it wasn't outside the room, it was inside, he realised. Louis. It sounded like he was crying.

"Louis?"

Louis didn't answer. The sound didn't stop.

Harry slipped out of bed and went over to Louis' bed. Louis was facing into the wall. Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "Louis? Louis, are you awake?" When there was no response, he shook him firmly. "Wake up. It's Harry. Wake up."

Louis came awake with a startled cry. He sat up in bed. "Shit. Harry. Is it time to check the house?"

"You were making funny noises."

"No, I wasn't."

"You were. It sounded like you were crying." Harry put his hand up to Louis' face. His cheeks were wet.

"I wasn't... oh." Louis rubbed across his eyes.

"Were you asleep?"

"I must have been."

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"Yeah, kinda." Louis swung his legs out of bed. "Well, while I'm awake I may as well go on my rounds. Hop into bed." He picked up the torch and left the room.

Harry waited anxiously. Louis had never had a nightmare before, that he knew of. Eventually, Louis returned. "All clear," he said. He got into bed carefully beside Harry. 

"Why did you have a nightmare?"

"Who knows?"

"What was it about?"

Louis paused. "Never mind."

Harry began stroking his hair. 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm comforting you."

"I'm okay, Harry, really." But Louis shivered. Harry knew he wasn't cold, not the least because his body didn't feel cold. Because the weather was unseasonably warm Louis was wearing only underwear and a t-shirt. Harry wore only underwear and he was plenty warm enough under one blanket.

"You had a nightmare. I get to look after you," said Harry. 

"I'll survive."

Harry continued to stroke his hair. "Shh. Let me look after you." He finally had a way to say thank you to Louis for all the times he'd helped Harry. He took his task very seriously, stroking Louis' hair for a long time. He pressed a kiss to Louis' forehead. Eventually, Louis pulled away and turned on his side facing Harry, putting an arm around him. 

"Go to sleep now," he said.

"Are you tired?" 

"Yeah." He yawned.

"I don't want you to have another nightmare."

"I won't."

Harry had to be satisfied with that. He waited until Louis' breathing was deep and even before he allowed himself to fall alseep, feeling like he'd just tamed a powerful beast.

***

On Saturday, Harry and Louis got into Coach Morrison's car as usual. Louis was subdued and didn't greet him with the enthusiasm Harry was used to. Coach Morrison didn't appear to notice. He chatted cheerily to Louis about the Manchester United game. His good cheer dwindled a bit when Louis didn't respond, except with grunts. 

"What's the matter, Louis? You know you can talk to me about anything."

"No, I can't."

"You can. I'll always be here for you. I'm your mentor."

"You know what it is and you know I can't talk about it."

"Oh, so that's what's bothering you?" Coach Morrison glanced at Harry, before turning back to Louis. "I thought we'd cleared that up."

"We didn't clear anything up," said Louis. Coach Morrison put a hand on Louis' thigh. Louis flinched away. "Don't."

"But Louis, I want to help you. I love you like a son, you know that."

"Is that what you call it?"

Coach Morrison looked at Harry again. Harry was puzzled by the tension in the car. "We'll talk about it during the game. I don't want you to be upset."

When they arrived at the ground, Harry's bladder suddenly felt urgent. "I need to wee," he said.

"I'll take him," said Coach Morrison.

Louis grabbed Harry by the shoulder. "No, I'll take him," he said, possessively. "Come on, Harry."

"You need to warm up, Louis."

"When I get back."

Harry used the urinal while Louis hovered around the doorway of the toilet block, glancing from the pitch to Harry. He couldn't seem to keep still, but that was nothing odd when it came to Louis. And Harry was used to his recent brittleness.

Louis was inside the doorway when Harry turned to go after washing his hands. "I'm ready," he said to Louis, who wasn't moving out of the way.

Louis looked at him and made a sort of choking sound, wrapping his arms around Harry. "I love you, Harry. Never forget that."

Harry did wonder why he was saying it in a dingy toilet block of all places, but he would take what he could get. It was the first time Louis had ever told him he loved him and so it would be treasured. He hugged back just as fiercely, hoping to transmit all of his love to Louis.

Louis pulled away too soon. "We'd better get back out there. Coach'll be wondering what's happened to us."

Louis had improved during the time he'd been playing on Saturday afternoons. Some of that was probably due to becoming accustomed to the players around him but some of it was just Louis being brilliant. With only seconds to go to half-time, he manipulated the ball around an attacker and slotted a goal. The siren sounded and the team went crazy, rushing up to Louis, hugging him, patting him on the back. When he got back to the sidelines, Coach Morrison hugged him too. Louis was stiff in his embrace. Coach Morrison held him by the shoulder and manoeuvred him off to the side of the group. He started talking quietly to Louis. Louis hung his head. A couple of the boys came over to the coach. He brushed them off and moved Louis further away from the group. Harry wondered what they were talking about. It looked very serious. Eventually Coach Morrison hugged Louis again and went over to the group to address them.

When the game was over and they were back in the car, Coach Morrison said, "So, icecream anyone?" It was a ritual by now.

"Yes, please," said Harry.

"No, thanks," said Louis. "Can we just go home?"

"The young fellow wants icecream, he's having icecream," said the coach. "Cheer up, Louis. You were excellent today. I'm so proud of you. All your hard work is paying off."

At the icecream parlour, Coach Morrison bought an icecream for Louis even though he said again that he didn't want one. "It's your favourite, cookies and cream."

Louis took it. He ate some of the icecream, but not the cone.

***

Ms Curtis and Louis were arguing again. Harry could hear it from the bedroom. He tried to concentrate on his homework but it was hard with all the shouting going on. He marched into the main room. Niall, Zayn and Liam were sitting on the couch, pretending to watch TV. Ms Curtis and Louis were standing off to one side.

"I'm serious, young man. Your attitude has to start to change," said Ms Curtis.

"There's nothing wrong with my attitude."

"You storm around, you kick things, you deliberately broke that dish last night, I know you did. You even yelled at Harry the other day, and you never yell at Harry. You're on a course for self-destruction, and it has to stop."

"I can't stop it."

Harry interrupted. He faced Louis. "Why are you acting so angry? You just had football practice. You love football practice."

"I hate football! I hate everything!"

Ms Curtis said, "Louis-"

Louis raised a fist. "Don't push me, Harry."

"You wouldn't hit me," said Harry, trembling. He couldn't know that. He'd never seen Louis as bad as this before.

"Louis," said Ms Curtis, "back off."

Louis swung. Instead of hitting Harry, he swung at the wall. His fist crashed into it and he yelled with pain. Then he did it again.

"Louis! Stop it!" said Ms Curtis, trying to grab his hand. "You're hurting yourself."

Suddenly, Louis began crying. He put his good hand and his now-broken hand up to his face and sobbed loudly. Ms Curtis tried to touch him, but he shrugged her off. Harry stared, shocked. Louis must be feeling really bad to cry in front of everyone.

"What's the matter, Louis?" said Ms Curtis gently. "I can't help you if I don't know."

"You can't help me," sobbed Louis.

"Yes, I can. I want to. Trust me, Louis. Let me in."

"I want to see my sisters." He wouldn't be consoled.

"Calm down, honey. I'll see if I can arrange something for the weekend."

"I want to see them now!"

"You can't," said Ms Curtis, still speaking gently. "You know it takes a lot of work to arrange."

Louis flung a hand blindly. "Then I may as well not bother with anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't know what's going on."

"Tell me."

"I can't," said Louis, his voice thick with tears. "He made me promise."

"Louis, what are you saying?"

"It's Coach Morrison."

"What's Coach Morrison got to do with it?"

"He's... he's..."

Understanding flooded Ms Curtis' face. "Boys," she said, her eyes not moving from Louis. "Go to your rooms."

"What's going on?" asked Niall.

"Go to your rooms now." Her tone left no room for discussion.

Harry, Niall, Zayn and Liam slunk off. The last thing Harry heard was Louis saying brokenly, "There must be something wrong with me. Why'd he pick me?"

The boys gathered in Zayn's room. "I don't get it," said Zayn.

"Nor do I," said Harry.

"I do," said Niall. 

They all swung to look at him.

"It's Coach Morrison," said Niall.

"I got that much," said Zayn, "but what's he doing?"

"He's sexually abusing Louis."

Harry's stomach dropped. There was that phrase again, that ugly phrase that they'd implied to him when they took him out of his last foster home. Louis was being sexually abused by his idol, Coach Morrison.

"Oh my god," said Liam. "Are you sure?"

"What else could he possibly have meant? Why else did Ms Curtis throw us out of the room?"

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," said Zayn. "I'll go eavesdrop."

"You can't, Zayn," said Niall. "It's private."

"Oh my god," said Liam again. 

Harry sat down on the floor. He ached for Louis. No wonder he'd begun to be so short with Coach Morrison. No wonder he hadn't wanted to eat icecream last Saturday. Harry felt sick when he remembered the coach hugging Louis. He was a bad man.

"Harry, where are you going?" said Liam.

"I'm going to see Louis." Harry had picked himself off the floor and was headed for the door.

"You'd better not, Harry," said Niall. "He won't want to see you."

"How do you know?"

"Because we had a boy here who'd been sexually abused. Remember me telling you? I made friends with him and he told me things. He blamed himself for it. From what Louis said, he's doing the same thing."

"So?"

"Trevor loathed himself. He didn't want anyone to know about the abuse, but of course everyone found out. He never talked about it, except with me, and only bits and pieces."

"But he needs me," said Harry. He could feel his lower lip beginning to quiver.

"Harry, you can't go out there," said Niall.

"You can't stop me." Harry opened the door.

"Stop him!"

All of a sudden Harry was wriggling in the grasp of the three boys. "No! Put me down! I want Louis!"

"You can't," said Niall, looking distressed.

The door opened. Ms Curtis poked her head in, looking distracted. "Boys, Mrs Fletcher from across the road is here. I have to take Louis to hospital. I think he's broken his hand."

"Is Louis okay?" asked Liam.

"No, he's not. Harry, what's wrong?"

"I want Louis," said Harry.

"I'm afraid you can't have him. You'll have to wait until we get back home."

"Tell him I love him."

"I'll do that."

"Tell it to him from all of us," said Zayn awkwardly but determinedly.

"I will. You be good for Mrs Fletcher. You'll have to have canned food for dinner." She left.

"I guess we can go out now," said Liam.

Harry needed no second invitation. He burst out of the room. The front door was just closing. "Louis!" It was no good. He was gone.

Mrs Fletcher stood in the middle of the room. She was an older, quiet lady. Harry had never had a conversation with her, but only said hello from time to time. "Hello, boys. I got roped in at the last minute, I'm afraid. Now, Ms Curtis says you haven't had dinner. Who wants to help me?"

"I will," said Niall.

"Come along to the kitchen, then. We'll see what you've got to eat."

Harry and the boys all followed. There was a packet of mince out, and an onion cut up on the chopping board. Mrs Fletcher began to put the mince away. "You know which cupboard to look in better than I," she told Niall.

"What do you want, lads?' said Niall, opening the pantry. "Soup? Baked beans? Packet pasta?"

"What flavour is the pasta?" asked Zayn.

"Tomato and herb."

"Let's have that."

"Good, that's decided," said Mrs Fletcher, taking the family-sized packet from Niall. "Niall, you can stay, but why don't you other boys go and watch TV or something? I can't have you all in the kitchen."

Harry and the others obeyed. They trailed out to the couches, and sat lacklustrely on them, staring at each other.

"Shit. What are we going to do about Louis?" said Zayn. "I don't know how to act around him anymore."

"We should just be normal," said Liam.

"I was more thinking we should back off him, give him some space."

"I'm going to help him," said Harry.

"How?" said Zayn. "You don't know what he's going through. None of us do."

"I'll just love him."

"We all love him. But that's not going to be enough."

"Trevor said it was like having an open wound inside of him, always bleeding, always painful," said Niall.

"Shit."

There was nothing any of them could add to that.

***

Harry couldn't sleep. He thought about going and getting one of his sleeping pills. He knew where they were kept. In Ms Curtis' bathroom. She thought he didn't know, but he did. He'd found them one day when he was poking around curiously.

No, he didn't need a pill. He needed to be alert, to be there for Louis when he got home.

It took ages before he came back, though. It was nearing 10:00pm when the bedroom door opened.

"Louis?"

"Hush, Harry," said Ms Curtis, escorting Louis into the room. "Go back to sleep." She helped Louis undress and put him in bed, before kissing him on the forehead and leaving.

Harry waited for a bit, then padded over to Louis' bed. "Louis?"

"What?" said Louis, sounding strained.

"Did you break your hand?"

"Yeah. I've got plaster on it. Again."

"Did Ms Curtis tell you I loved you?"

"Yes."

"Because I do."

Louis let out a sob. Harry immediately climbed onto the bed and put his arm around him.

"Don't, Harry. I'm not worth it."

Harry lifted back the covers and slid in. Louis didn't protest. He was breathing funny. Harry tried to make his face out in the dark but it was all a blur. He put his arm around Louis again and hugged him close. "You're mine."

"Don't."

"It's okay to cry, you know."

"I'm sick of crying. I'm all cried out." But he obviously wasn't, because Harry felt wetness against his cheek where it was leaning against Louis'. He stroked down Louis' arm over and over as Louis cried silent tears.

***

When Harry woke up in the morning, Louis was still asleep. Harry looked over every inch of his face. He had a crust on the side of his cheek from crying. His eyelids were puffy. His face looked strained. Harry didn't know what he had to do to put Louis back together, but whatever it was, he would do it.

His arm had slipped off Louis in the night. He put it back, being careful not to create too much pressure lest he awaken Louis. Louis stirred anyway. He opened his eyes. Harry looked right into them.

"Hey." Louis smiled blearily. 

"Hey."

"You can get off me, now."

"Don't want to."

"We have to get ready for school."

"Not for another fifteen minutes. I checked already."

Louis craned his neck to look at his bedside clock, before dropping his head back onto the pillow. He touched Harry where his arm was around him. "You got through the night without me checking the house. Were you scared?"

"No, because I was with you. You wouldn't let anything happen to me."

Louis closed his eyes. "I don't want to go to school," he whispered.

"I bet Ms Curtis will let you stay home."

They lay, holding onto each other, until Louis' alarm went. Harry pulled away and switched it off. 

"You'd better get up," said Louis.

"Are you staying here?"

"Yes."

Patting him for the last time, Harry rolled off him and got up. 

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know?"

He didn't need to explain further. Harry nodded. "I know."

"Do you?" Louis looked plaintively up at him.

Harry knew he'd have to say it, because Louis wasn't going to. "I know that Coach Morrison touched you where he shouldn't."

Louis closed his eyes. "You do know."

"Niall figured it out."

Louis' eyes sprung open again. "They all know?"

"Yes."

"Jesus," breathed Louis.

"It's okay. They all love you."

"It's not okay," said Louis flatly.

Ms Curtis opened the door. "Boys? Are you getting up?"

"I'm not going to school," Louis told her.

"Harry, go out to the breakfast table."

Harry went out and poured himself some cereal. Louis never came. 

***  
Harry raced home to get to Louis. He'd been worried all day. Ms Curtis had made him go to school. She'd had to drag him out and drive him in the end, because he wouldn't walk away. It was only when she said he was upsetting Louis that he acquiesced.

"Harry," said Ms Curtis, surprised when he walked in the door. "You're home awfully quickly."

"Where's Louis? Is he in our room?"

"I don't want you to go in there, Harry."

"Why not?" demanded Harry.

"Because Louis is resting."

"But I want to see him."

"Not now. Maybe later."

"I want to get changed."

Ms Curtis left off the sewing she was doing. "I'll get your clothes. You can change in Zayn's room."

Harry desperately wanted to see Louis, but he didn't want to upset Louis by causing a scene, so he didn't argue. For the moment. Ms Curtis had to let him into their room sometime. He had to sleep somewhere.

It was after dinner before Ms Curtis let him enter his room. 

"Louis!" He rushed over, but stopped before he reached the bed to take Louis in. He looked exhausted, even though he hadn't moved from the bed all day. There was more crust on his cheeks.

"Hey, Haz." He smiled that weak smile again, the one from last night, the one that said he was only smiling for Harry's sake.

"Hey." Harry touched him carefully, as if he thought Louis might break. Maybe he would.

"I can't sleep, Haz."

"You can have some of my sleeping pills. I don't need them anymore."

"The doctor came over today. He gave me some of my own."

"That's good. They help you sleep."

"They'd better," said Louis. "I really need to sleep."

"Didn't you get much last night?"

"No."

"You didn't eat, either," said Harry, having witnessed the tray that went into Louis' room come back, untouched.

"I'm not hungry. I don't think I'll ever be hungry again."

"You have to be. Your body needs it."

"My body doesn't need anything."

Harry said, "You need my hugs," and laid an arm across him.

"Yeah, but I only need them in my head. That doesn't count."

Harry didn't understand what he meant but didn't ask. Louis was saying some silly things. "I'll look after you," he said, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "You can be my baby now."

"I'm not a baby. I'm an eleven year old boy. I said no but he wouldn't listen." Louis sat up. "Harry, I have to warn you. This is how they get you. He started asking me about if I masturbated and stuff, and then he said he'd show me how to make it really good. He took me in. Don't let them do it to you, Harry. Promise me."

"I won't," Harry promised. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Don't say that." Louis looked distressed. "You don't hope to die, Harry. You have to live. Promise me you won't die."

"Everyone dies," Harry pointed out.

"Not you. I don't want you to ever die," said Louis. "You're too special."

Harry looked down. He still didn't understand why Louis thought he was so wonderful. Louis was wonderful, not Harry. "I have to die, Louis."

Louis had started crying. "I don't want you to die. I want you to be you forever."

Obviously alerted by the sound of his tears, Ms Curtis came in. "Harry, leave him alone for now."

"But he needs me."

"You're upsetting him."

"He's not," cried Louis. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't even know what I'm saying."

"Louis, Harry's going to leave now. I'll come back in a minute."

Harry was scared at Louis' tears. They seemed to come for no reason. He allowed himself to be led out of the room by Ms Curtis. "I'm sorry, Harry," said Ms Curtis kindly. "You can see how easy he is to upset at the moment. Don't go back into the room until you have to go to bed."

"But I need a shower. I need my pyjamas."

Ms Curtis looked at the bathroom. "No one's using the bathroom right now. I'll fetch your pyjamas and you can have a shower. Afterwards, come out to the TV room." Ms Curtis went back into the room. "I'll be right back, Louis. I'm just getting Harry his pyjamas."

Louis said something unintelligible.

Ms Curtis came out again. "Here, Harry. Run along and have a shower now. Zayn, no! Harry's having a shower."

"But I was here first," said Zayn, pausing in the doorway of the bathroom.

"I want Harry to have a shower first."

"Then can I see Louis yet?"

"No."

"But you let Harry see him."

"I shouldn't have. He's upset again."

After Harry had his shower he went out to the TV room, as instructed. Ms Curtis was still doing sewing at the meals table. The boys were all lined up on the main couch. 

"You saw him," said Niall. "How is he?"

"He's... not like himself," said Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"He was saying some strange things."

"Strange things?" said Liam.

"Like, I don't know. He wanted me to promise not to die."

"What did you say?"

"What do you think?" said Harry.

"You didn't promise him?" guessed Zayn.

"Of course I couldn't promise him. That would be a lie."

"You should have promised him. Just for now. He's obviously not doing so well."

"I'm not going to lie to him."

"You should have," insisted Zayn.

"What do you know?" said Harry.

"I'm going to have a shower," said Zayn huffily, getting up.

"We can't let this divide us, guys," said Liam.

"I'm not," said Harry. "It's Zayn."

"Both of you," said Liam fiercely. "Say sorry to each other right now."

Harry looked away, before meeting Zayn's eyes. Zayn looked worried and confused. Just like Harry felt. "I'm sorry, Zayn," he said.

Zayn paused, as if wanting to make sure he meant it. "I'm sorry, too," said Zayn. "Now I'm going to have a shower."

Eventually, Ms Curtis came out of Louis' and Harry's room. 

"Can I go to bed now?" asked Harry.

"Promise me you'll go straight to bed. Don't bother Louis."

"I won't, unless he wants me to."

"Harry."

"Goodnight," Harry said to the room in general. He tiptoed into his room. Maybe Louis was sleeping. He didn't want to wake him up. No movement came from the other side of the room. Harry got into bed and took his pyjama top off.

"Harry?"

So Louis was awake. "Yes?"

"Can you stay with me tonight?"

Harry hopped back up again and made his way through the usual treacherous piles of clothes to Louis' bed. "I can always stay with you," he whispered. Louis lifted up the covers and Harry crawled in, settling himself around Louis. 

A short time later, Ms Curtis came in. Harry's head popped up. "Harry, what did I say?"

"Please let him stay," said Louis.

"Well, all right. But if I hear you crying again, Harry goes back to his own bed."

"I'm all cried out now."

"That's what you said earlier today. Louis, you need to sleep."

"Harry will help me sleep," said Louis stubbornly.

"If those pills don't work, I don't know what I'm going to do. Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight, Ms Curtis," said Harry. He snuggled back up to Louis and, without meaning to, was quickly asleep.

***

Louis didn't get out of bed the next day, or the next. He didn't eat, either. On Sunday morning, Ms Curtis came in and stripped the covers off them. "Harry, get off him."

Harry obeyed. He scampered back to his side of the room. 

"Leave me alone," said Louis.

"Come on, Louis, you can't hide in here forever," said Ms Curtis. "You need to shower, at least."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"I'm not dirty. I've just been lying here."

"Bacteria builds up on your skin," said Ms Curtis. "You need to have a shower. Come on, Louis. Lottie's coming over, remember? You don't want to be smelly for her."

"I don't want to see Lottie."

"We made this arrangement especially for you. You're going to see Lottie, and that's that. " She softened her voice a little. "I know it's tough, Louis, but you can do this."

"I can't."

"Loius, listen to me. You're having a shower even if I have to carry you in there myself." 

"You'll have to carry me, then."

Ms Curtis swept over to the bed and hauled him out. Louis was weakened and stumbled to keep up. He wasn't wearing a shirt and he'd gotten noticeably skinnier over the past few days.

"Let me go," Louis protested.

"No. Come on, don't make me drag you." She pulled him out of the room. After a moment, Harry followed.

The bathroom door was shut. Ms Curtis knocked. "Who's in this bathroom? There was nobody in here a minute ago. I'm coming in."

"It's me," came Niall's voice.

"What are you doing?"

Niall popped out. His eyes grew huge when he saw Louis. "Louis."

Louis was still struggling in Ms Curtis' grip. "I don't want to see anyone!" he shouted.

"Niall, go to your room. Quickly now." As Niall left, she pulled Louis into the bathroom. "Get in that shower, young man."

"No. Why did you make me see Niall? I don't want to see anyone except Harry."

"If Harry tells you to have a shower, will you do it?"

"No."

"That's it," decided Ms Curtis. She hauled him into the shower still dressed in his pyjama bottoms and turned on the taps. Louis howled as the cold water hit him. He tried to break free. Water went everywhere, all over the bathroom and Harry and Ms Curtis. Ms Curtis didn't seem to care. She bodily blocked Louis from leaving the shower.

Louis stopped struggling, suddenly. He collapsed to the floor of the shower and started sobbing.

"Harry, go and eat breakfast or something. Tell Niall to go with you." Ms Curtis turned back to Louis. "There, there, honey, don't cry."

Harry went to Niall's room. "We're supposed to go to breakfast," he told Niall.

"Louis' so skinny."

"I know. He hasn't eaten since Wednesday, remember?"

"I didn't think it would show up so quickly." Niall went with him to the meals room.

Liam and Zayn were already there. "What's going on?" said Liam. "We heard Louis shouting."

"I think he's in the shower," said Niall carefully.

"Harry?"

"Niall's right," said Harry, giving him a look that said he wasn't going to discuss it further.

Liam subsided.

***

In the afternoon, Lottie came over with her foster dad. Harry hadn't been allowed back in to see Louis. Ms Curtis told him to stay away, took her dripping form to her bedrooom, and emerged some time later in fresh clothes. She wouldn't answer any of his questions.

Now Lottie was here to see Louis. She looked excited.

"He's not well," Ms Curtis explained. "You might find he doesn't want to talk much, but he asked to see you." It wasn't strictly a lie. Louis had asked on Wednesday to see his sisters, after all.

Ms Curtis escorted Lottie to Louis' and Harry's room and came back out after a couple of minutes. She'd put a chair in there earlier so Lottie would have somewhere to sit.

A few minutes later, Lottie came rushing out. "What's wrong with him, Dad? He won't tell me." She swung around to Ms Curtis. "Is he dying?"

"Goodness, no."

"He looks like he's dying, to me."

Harry thought of the promise he couldn't make to Louis. Did Louis want to die? He hadn't thought about it before, but it began to make sense. He was starving himself, after all.

"What did he tell you?" said Ms Curtis.

"That he's sick. Sick of life."

"Oh dear," said Ms Curtis.

Lottie's foster father turned to Ms Curtis. "He's sick? What's wrong with him?"

"He went through a bad experience recently, that's all."

"I swear, Dad," said Lottie, "he really looks like he's dying."

""I'm sure you're exaggerating, Lottie. I'll go and see him for myself," Lottie's foster father decided. 

"I'd prefer you didn't," said Ms Curtis. "Family only."

"If there's something wrong with the lad... I don't want my daughter getting sick."

"She won't. It's not catching."

"Why all the mystery, woman? You ring us up, tell us Louis needs to see Lottie urgently, don't tell us why, we come all the way here, and you're still not being straight with us."

"Maybe I made a mistake in asking you to come," said Ms Curtis. "Maybe you should just go."

"No. I want to see my brother," cried Lottie, and ran back to the bedroom. They could hear her imploring with Louis to tell her what was wrong.

"I don't know what game you're playing," said Lottie's foster father.

"No game. My only concern is for Louis."

"My only concern is for my daughter. Lottie, come back out here!"

"No!" she shouted back. "He needs me."

"I'm going in there," said Lottie's foster father.

"No, don't, please," said Ms Curtis. "He's in a very fragile state right now."

"I'll make that determination." He strode down the passage, Ms Curtis begging him not to, Harry hot on their heels. He needed to keep Louis safe. He pushed past Lottie's foster father and burst into the room ahead of him. 

Lottie had pulled the chair right up to the bed. She held Louis' hand. Louis looked... he looked like he was dying. Lottie was right. How had he not seen this?

He swung around to Lottie's foster father. "Leave him alone."

"Get out of my way." He pushed Harry aside. "What's going on, Louis?"

His face was blotchy, like he was crying on the inside. "None of your business," he managed to gasp out.

"Are you dying?"

"Yes."

Lottie wailed. Ms Curtis wrung her hands. Harry put his hands over his ears. He didn't want to hear it. Too late.

"What in God's name is going on here?" thundered Lottie's foster father.

Lottie stood up. "Get out of here, Dad." She looked suddenly fierce through her tears. "He'll never tell me if you don't leave."

Lottie's foster father tried to bluster. "Now look here, Lottie-"

"Dad! Just get out."

Suddenly silenced, her father left. "I'll give you five minutes," he muttered.

"Louis, tell me what's going on," said Lottie.

"I'm okay, Lottie, really. I'm not really dying. I'm sorry I said that."

"You wouldn't say something like that without meaning it."

Louis turned his head away. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Tired of life, you said. Are you suicidal? Is that the big secret?"

"Yes," whispered Louis.

***

A doctor came over. A lady doctor, very young. Lottie and her foster father had left by this stage. 

The other boys had been outside playing football while everything went on. Harry was supposed to have been out there, too, but he'd snuck back in when he heard the car in the driveway. He'd wanted to see Louis' sister. At least she'd gotten the truth out of Louis. That was the one good thing about all of this.

The doctor and Ms Curtis went into the bedroom. Harry and the other boys hovered around, not obeying Ms Curtis' orders to stay away.

"Suicidal?" whispered Zayn. "Why would he want to do that?"

"He's depressed, obviously," said Liam. "Wouldn't you be?"

Harry could only imagine how Louis must be feeling. He'd been sort-of suicidal a couple of times at his last foster home but he didn't have a plan or anything. But Louis had a plan. It was a simple plan; to not live anymore, to not eat, to not ever leave his room again except to go to the toilet. Harry tried to imagine life without Louis. He couldn't. He didn't want to.

Ms Curtis and the doctor came out of the room. Ms Curtis shooed them away, but they crept back to listen in on the muted conversation Ms Curtis and the doctor were having.

"What's she saying?" whispered Niall.

"Shh. We're trying to listen," said Zayn.

Harry heard the word hospital. But they didn't have hospitals for suicidal people, did they? It didn't matter; apparently Louis wasn't cooperating. He was refusing to go to hospital. 

"I want Harry," Louis called.

"Just a minute, Louis," said Ms Curtis. "What do you mean, you can make him go to hospital?"

"I can certify him under the Mental Health Act," said the doctor.

"But how will that help him get to hospital? He's not going to go by himself."

"We can get the psychiatric emergency team out here. They can take him."

"Forcibly, you mean?"

"If that's the only way. Ma'am, that's one sick boy in that room."

"Harry!" shouted Louis.

Harry came into Ms Curtis' line of vision. She motioned permission for him to go into the room.

"I'm here, Louis," he said. Louis reached out to him and Harry went up to the bed.

"They want to take me away from you," said Louis. "I won't let them. Stay with me."

"I don't want you to die," said Harry.

Louis sighed. "I don't have a choice. I can't eat. I have to die soon."

"But I don't want you to," said Harry, breaking into tears. 

"Don't cry, Haz. I've done enough crying. Here." He pulled on Harry. "Get onto the bed with me."

Harry obeyed, flinging his arms around Louis' neck. "I'm not letting you die."

"Don't you get it, Harry? You're my only bright spot. But it's about balance. I depend on you too much and I throw out the balance."

He was talking nonsense again. "Please, Louis."

"Don't cry, baby. I love you. Never forget that. You're my only bright spot."

Ms Curtis and the doctor came back into the room. "Louis, honey," said Ms Curtis. "You're not well. Let the doctor put you in hospital."

"Will you let me take Harry?"

"You can't take Harry to the hospital with you, love. You'll have to go by yourself."

"Then I'll die all alone. I'm not going anywhere without Harry."

"Harry, get off him," said Ms Curtis.

"No."

"I'm going to contact the psychiatric emergency team," said the doctor. 

"I don't need a shrink! There's nothing wrong with me!" hollered Louis.

Ms Curtis followed the doctor out of the room, as she placed a call.

"I don't need a shrink, do I, Harry?"

"I don't know," said Harry, trembling.

"You're shivering. Don't shiver. Are you cold? Get under the blanket."

Harry wasn't cold, but he got under the blanket anyway and hugged Louis more tightly.

The doctor strolled past the door. "-suicidal, delusional, recent history of sexual abuse and self-harm-"

Louis shook his head. "Does everyone have to know? I should just take out an ad on the radio."

"-no, he's not going to go quietly. That's why I'm calling you."

"I can hear you!" said Louis.

The doctor glanced in. "Just a moment," she said into the phone, walking away. Harry strained to hear what she was saying about Louis, but she was out of earshot. He was scared. What were they going to do to Louis?

After a few minutes, Ms Curtis came back into the room. The chair was still in the room from when Lottie was there. Ms Curtis sat down in it.

"I'm not going to hospital," said Louis. "You can't make me."

"Oh, Louis. If only you knew how irrational you were being."

"Harry," Louis whispered right in his ear, "I need a weapon."

"What do you mean?"

"Something I can defend myself with. If it all goes wrong, something I can cut myself with."

"Like what?"

Louis thought. "A piece of glass."

"Where do I get a piece of glass?"

"There's a hand-mirror in the bathroom cabinet. Go break it."

"What are you two whispering about?" asked Ms Curtis.

"Nothing," said Louis. "Where's the doctor?"

"Outside."

"What if you're gone when I come back?" whispered Harry.

"I won't be, if you hurry. Go on."

Harry crawled out from under the covers. "Where are you going, Harry? asked Ms Curtis. "Louis, no, don't get up."

"I'm getting dressed," said Louis. "I don't want to be taken away half-naked."

Harry slipped out the door. He went to the bathroom and found the mirror. But how did he break it? And what if Ms Curtis heard?

He had a brainwave. Rushing so he could get back to Louis, he went outside, and smashed the mirror against the verandah step. It didn't shatter the first time. It took him several attempts. Finally, he had some shards of glass. He selected a fairly small one, because Louis had to be able to hide it. As he picked it up, he cut himself. The edges were sharp.

He got a tissue out of his pocket and clutched it in his bleeding hand, transferring the bit of glass to his other hand. He went back inside. He had to put the bit of glass in something, otherwise it was going to cut Louis' hand, too. A paper towel. 

It wasn't the greatest idea, but he could think of nothing better on the spur of the moment. He wrapped the bit of glass in a paper towel from the kitchen, then grabbed an extra paper towel for his bleeding hand, before heading back to the bedroom. 

"Harry, where have you been?" asked Ms Curtis.

"Nowhere."

"What's that you've got in your hand?"

"A paper towel." Carefully, Harry climbed back onto the bed.

"Did you get it?" whispered Louis.

"Yes. Careful, it's sharp. I wrapped it in a paper towel."

"Good thinking." Louis palmed the paper towel-covered bit of glass from Harry's hand and slipped it into his trouser pocket.

"Harry, you're bleeding," said Ms Curtis.

"That's why I've got a paper towel."

Heavy footsteps could be heard at the other end of the house. A pitter-patter of smaller feet heralded Niall.

"There's two big men coming," he said.

"Thank you, Niall. Why don't you all go and play outside, now?"

"Louis," said Niall. 

"I'm okay, Niall."

"You don't look okay."

Everything happened very fast after that. The doctor came in, followed by two burly men. Niall backed away out the door.

"Which one's Louis?" asked the first man.

"I am," said Louis.

"Louis, I'm Dan, and this is Colin," he said, pointing to his burly, spectacles-wearing companion. "We've come to take you to the hospital."

"I'm not going."

"Young fellow, why don't you move?" Dan said to Harry.

"No."

"Oh. Okay. Look, Louis, we understand you've been having a bit of trouble lately."

"I'm perfectly sane," said Louis.

"I'm not saying you aren't. But you look a bit down to me, mate."

"Being down doesn't make you insane."

"Of course not," Dan agreed.

"So I don't need to go to hospital."

"Apparently you're suicidal. That doesn't sound okay to me. Louis, we want you to be safe. You'll be safe at the hospital."

"You won't let me bring Harry."

"The young fellow? Unfortunately, no."

"Then I'm not going anywhere," said Louis.

"Louis, mate, we can sort this out easily. All you have to do is come with us. The sooner you come with us, the sooner we can get you back home again. Deal?"

"Not without Harry."

You didn't tell us he had a hostage," murmured Colin to the doctor. "Dan. A word?"

"I'll be back in a minute, Louis," said Dan, and stepped out of the room to talk with Colin.

Louis clutched Harry to himself. "I won't let them take you away from me."

"I won't let them, either," said Harry.

After a bit, the two men came back into the room. "Look, Louis," said Dan, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Now the fact is, we've come to take you to hospital. You don't have a choice about that. You've been certified. Why don't you relax and just come with us? We'll get you back home as soon as we can. We don't like to hold onto people for no reason."

"Give it up."

"All right. Don't be frightened, we're not going to hurt you. Firstly I want to take this young fellow away." Dan stepped up and grabbed hold of Harry.

"No," said Louis. He clutched tigher onto Harry. Meanwhile, Dan was attempting to pull him off. Harry was being pulled this way and that.

"Let go of him," ordered Dan. "Colin, I need you. Grab Louis' arms."

Colin did so and Dan began prising Harry out of Louis' grip. Harry yelled. He was being pulled away. "Louis!"

"Harry, hold onto me."

Desperately, Harry clutched at Louis. It was no good. The two men were too strong. Dan hauled him away and held onto him, as Harry tried to kick him. Meanwhile, Colin grabbed hold of Louis. "Come on, kid. Time to go."

Louis squirmed and kicked and struggled. Colin began losing a grip on him. "Dan, help me out."

Dan put Harry down and went to help with Louis. Harry was free to kick and hit the men. He tried to, but Ms Curtis stopped him. "Please, Harry. You're just making this worse."

Harry saw Louis reach into his pocket with his unbroken hand, saw him pull out the paper towel with the shard of glass in it. He began flailing it around, still in its paper towel. Obviously he couldn't unbind it with one hand and was hoping the shard would cut through the towel.

"What's he got there?" said Colin. He trapped Louis' hand and reached for what it contained. "Ow!" He dropped it. A side of glass had cut through the paper towel after all.

"Shit," said Dan, looking down to the floor at the shard of glass, now completely out of its sheath. "We need to search him."

Harry tried to get away from Ms Curtis without hurting her. "Leave him alone!" he yelled, as Dan and Colin threw Louis down on the bed. Colin held him down while Dan searched his pockets. 

"All clear," said Dan. "Colin, you're bleeding."

"That bit of glass got me."

"Louis, stop struggling. We're trying to help you. Colin, we'll have to medicate him."

All of a sudden, Louis went limp. Harry watched as his head lolled to the side. "They're hurting him, Ms Curtis."

"He's flaked out," said Dan. "Quick, let's get him to the van." He flung Louis over his shoulder and began carrying him out. Harry finally broke free of Ms Curtis and he ran after the men, pounding Dan on the side of his back where Louis wasn't hanging. Dan didn't flinch. He just strode out with Louis on his shoulder. They went through the main room. The boys had not obeyed Ms Curtis' instruction to go outside. They were all in the room. They stared at the procession.

Harry followed Dan out the front door and up to the van parked in the driveway, yelling at him to stop, to put Louis down. Dan simply plucked Louis off his shoulder as Colin opened the back of the van, and laid him on the bed inside.

"Restraints," said Colin.

Dan, now inside the van, strapped Louis to the bed. Colin held Harry off, shutting the van's doors on Dan and Louis.

"Well, ma'am, we'll be on our way," said Colin to Ms Curtis. "Telephone and find out when you can see him."

Harry was crying. So was Ms Curtis. He clutched onto her as Colin got into the driver's seat of the van and drove away. 

The doctor was standing on the driveway a little behind them. "This is all your fault," Harry said to her.

The doctor looked shaken but said, "It was the right thing to do. It was the only choice I had."

***  
Ms Curtis made the trip to the hospital to see Louis every day while the boys were at school. Then the weekend came around. Harry assumed they'd be taken to see Louis, but Ms Curtis arranged for Janet to come over and babysit.

"Why can't I come? I'm not at school," said Harry.

"It's better if you stay home," said Ms Curtis.

"I want to see him. I miss him."

"He misses you too."

"So why can't I come?"

"It won't be long before he's back home. Just be patient."

She wouldn't be argued with. She left when Janet got there and there was nothing Harry could do about it. The same thing happened on Sunday. Harry wanted all the details, everything Louis said and did, but Ms Curtis only said, "He's doing okay. He'll be home soon."

Harry wasn't satisfied. He had to see Louis. But how? He could play hooky from school. The school rang parents if you didn't turn up, though. He'd have to go to school, and leave during the school day. That was risky; a teacher could see him. But he had no choice. He had to see Louis.

That night he used the computer to look up bus timetables. He discovered he could take a bus to the bus station, then catch a connecting bus out to the hospital. 

As he'd been doing ever since Louis went into the hospital, Harry slept in Louis' bed. The smell of Louis on the sheets comforted him, made him sleep better. 

On Monday morning Ms Curtis came into the room. Harry was up and dressed and just about to go out for breakfast. She walked over to Louis' bed, and, to his dismay, began stripping it.

"What are you doing?" said Harry.

"I'm cleaning the sheets so he can come back to a fresh bed."

"But, I need his sheets."

"Have you been sleeping in Louis' bed?"

"I sleep better in Louis' bed. But only if you keep the sheets on."

Ms Curtis continued to strip the bed. "They're dirty. He didn't shower for days. I can't imagine how you find it easier to sleep in smelly sheets."

"They smell like Louis to me," said Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I really must wash the sheets." Ms Curtis continued to strip the bed.

Harry packed for school. He wanted to give Louis something, something to comfort him, something to remind him of Harry, but what? He spied Monkey sitting on the top of his made-up bed. He could take Monkey. Monkey made Harry feel better. Monkey could make Louis feel better, too.

He walked to school as normal and participated up until the break. He hung out with the boys and didn't tell them what his plans were. When the bell went for the end of break, Harry hid in the toilets. Once all was quiet, he went to fetch his schoolbag. No one was guarding the gates. He slipped out and walked down the road to the bus-stop. The bus came along soon afterwards and he hopped on it. He caught the connecting bus at the bus station. 

He was dropped off at a stop right outside the hospital, and entered at the double doors. "I want to see Louis Tomlinson," he told the receptionist.

The receptionist looked up her computer. "Oh, he's in our paedeatric psychiatric ward. You have to go down the corridor right to the very end and it's just across the carpark."

"Thank you," said Harry. He followed the corridor down to the end and came out of the building. Across the carpark was a different wing of the hospital. He walked up to it and entered the front doors. It was a strange little room; very short and very wide. A receptionist sat behind a panel of glass. Harry strode up. "Hello. My name's Harry. I'm here to see Louis Tomlinson."

"Oh! Shouldn't you be in school?"

"No, I want to see Louis."

"Just a moment. I'll get a nurse to come out and see you. Take a seat." The receptionist picked up her phone.

Harry saw down in the strange room. It had fake pot-plants in the corners. Harry hated fake pot-plants. 

A door swung open and a nurse, not wearing a nurse's uniform, came over to him. "Hello. I'm Candace."

"I'm Harry."

"You can't see Louis, I'm afraid," she said. "Not without an adult present."

"You're an adult. You can be present."

"A responsible adult. One of your parents."

"I don't have parents, I have a foster mother."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, your foster mother needs to be here with you."

"But I've come all this way to see Louis!"

The nurse was stubborn. "I'm afraid you can't see him. What's your foster mother's phone number, so I can phone her to get you?"

"Not telling."

"Louis is your brother?"

"Yes."

"It'll be on our records, then. Wait here."

He was trapped. He could just walk out the door, since the nurse had disappeared and the receptionist wasn't paying him any attention, but he couldn't shake the feeling that, even just by being here, he was closer to Louis. So he waited for the nurse to come back.

She did, and beckoned him forwards. "Come with me, Harry."

"You're letting me see Louis?"

"I'm taking you to a place where you can wait for your foster mum." She swiped her pass-key and led him onto the ward, a hand on his shoulder. "This way. We have a visitors' room where you can wait." They walked past a nurse's station, all covered in glass, and arrived at a room also covered in glass panels. It was adjacent to a large room with tables and chairs in it, and a closed roller door at one end over a counter. That must be the dining room.

The nurse opened the door of the glass-covered room. Inside were couches and a table. The table had magazines on it. "Take a seat on one of the couches. Would you like me to get you something to read? We have children's books here."

"I want to see Louis."

"I'm so sorry, but I can't let you see him. I'll get you a book."

She left. Harry sat down, putting his schoolbag between his feet. The nurse came back with a book. "Your foster mother said she'd be straight out. She shouldn't be too long."

"Can I eat my lunch?"

"Yes, you can eat your lunch. Try not to make a mess."

She left once again, and Harry put the book down on the table. He dug his sandwich out and ate it, then looked at his watch. It was around fifteen minutes since the nurse had phoned Ms Curtis. She should be here, soon. He tried to occupy himself reading the book but it was hard to concentrate.

People began walking past the door. Harry looked up. They were all children, but all older than Louis. They were going into the dining room. Harry rushed to his feet and grabbed his backpack. What if Louis was one of the children?

He opened the door. There was Louis! He looked downcast. He was trailing behind the group, dressed in tracksuit pants and a hoodie, with socks on his feet. Louis didn't like socks, but he hated shoes even more. He liked to be barefoot but it was getting too cold to go barefoot, despite the air-conditioning in the hospital.

"Louis!" he called.

Louis' eyes swung up to meet his. An expression of hope flitted across his face. He began walking faster. "Harry? Is it really you?"

"It's really me."

Louis arrived in front of Harry and hugged him, lifting him off his feet. "I missed you so much," he murmured into Harry's hair. "How did you get here?"

"I played hooky from school."

"You silly."

"Ms Curtis wouldn't let me see you." Louis put Harry back down and Harry fished in his backpack. "Here. I brought Monkey for you."

Louis took Monkey and looked touched. "Harry. Will you be okay without him?"

A voice came from behind Louis. "Louis, what are you doing?" It was a male nurse.

"This is my brother," said Louis. 

"Oh. I didn't realise you had visitors. You're going to miss out on lunch."

"I don't care."

"Now Louis, you know we have to monitor what you eat. You can see your vistors afterwards. Come along." The nurse grabbed Louis by the shoulder. "Sorry, young'un, but Louis needs to keep up his calorie intake. He can see you later."

Just then, Ms Curtis appeared. "Harry! Louis!" She broke away from the nurse that was escorting her and ran up to the two boys. "Harry, what did you think you were doing, coming all the way out here?"

"I wanted to see Louis. Don't go, Louis."

"Wait for me," said Louis. "I'll come back to see you." The nurse dragged him off to the dining area.

"Harry," said Ms Curtis, looking disapprovingly at him. "What were you thinking? Come into the visitors' room." Ms Curtis had obviously been in this room before. She sat comfortably on a seat, motioning Harry to sit down on the couch across from her. "I can't believe you skipped out on school."

"You wouldn't let me see Louis."

"You're normally so well-bahaved."

"I had to see Louis," repeated Harry. "You're not going to take me home straight away, are you? Not now that I'm here."

Ms Curtis sighed. "I suppose while you're here, you may as well see Louis. But don't think I'm condoning your behaviour in any way, young man. You're grounded for the rest of the week."

It was worth it, Harry thought.

They had to wait about twenty minutes until the male nuse led Louis into the room. 

"How was his eating?" asked Ms Curtis.

"Fine," said the nurse. "He ate everything on his plate."

"Do you know when he'll be released?"

"Not sure yet, ma'am. You'd have to discuss it with the psychiatrist." The nurse left.

Harry ran up to Louis, hugging him again. Louis carried Monkey in one hand. Harry led Louis over to the couch next to him and sat down beside him. Now they were both across from Ms Curtis.

"So, you're eating better, Louis," said Ms Curtis.

"Anything to get me out of here."

"It's not that bad, surely?"

Louis looked sleepy. He had trouble keeping his eyes open. Nevertheless, he slipped an arm around Harry. "Some of these kids are seriously fucked up. One of the boys smears his shit on the walls."

"Oh, Louis."

"It's true. It's disgusting."

"I'm sorry," said Ms Curtis. "Is that Monkey you've got in your hand?"

"I gave him to him," said Harry. "He needs him more than me."

"That's very sweet of you, Harry."

Harry turned to Louis. "Tell me what happens. Tell me what you do all day."

"I wake up at around 7:30am, have breakfast, then it's group therapy until lunch. After lunch, it's either more group therapy or schoolwork."

"What's group therapy?"

"It's when you sit down and talk about stuff like self-esteem. At least, you're supposed to. Sometimes we go on outings. Like, for example, to the pitch down the road to kick a football."

"Did you score any goals?"

"It was just kick to kick. Everyone's hopeless, here. Only one of the nurses was any good."

Harry wanted to ask him if he was going to keep playing football, but didn't. Ms Curtis had told him she'd reported Coach Morrison to the police. The police had charged him with sexual assault of a minor, and he wasn't allowed to teach at the high school anymore.

Harry watched Louis carefully, trying to note everything about him. He didn't have crusts on his face anymore. He looked and smelled clean. But his face was still strained. As Harry watched him, he blinked. Except the blink turned into a prolonged closing of the eyes. Louis looked like he was about to fall asleep.

"Why are you so sleepy?" asked Harry.

Louis blinked again,opening his eyes. "It's the drugs I'm on. They make me really tired."

"Are they sleeping pills?"

"No. The sleepiness is just a side-effect."

"What has your psychiatrist been saying?' asked Ms Curtis.

"I haven't seen the psychiatrist since Friday," said Louis. "I'm due to see her again this afternoon."

"So they still want to hold on to you."

"I guess so."

"You have to cooperate, Louis, if you want to come home."

"I'm trying," said Louis. "It's hard. There's stuff I don't want to talk about, that's none of their business."

"I understand it can be hard to talk about what you're going through, but you have to let them help you. They're the experts."

"I don't think they know what they're doing. I'm better off forgetting."

"You have to deal with it, Louis. You simply have to, if you want to get better. You don't want to feel like this for the rest of your life, do you?"

"Maybe I won't have a very long life."

"Don't. You worry me when you talk like that," said Ms Curtis. "Everyone misses you. We all love you, and want to see you back home." 

Louis said nothing. 

A nurse came into the room. "I'm sorry, but Louis needs to attend therapy in a few minutes. These are not normal visiting hours."

"I understand," said Ms Curtis. She stood up. "Try to stay positive, Louis. There's plenty you have to look forward to. "

Louis stood up, too. "You'll bring Harry back again?"

"On the weekend," said Ms Curtis.

"And the others, too? I miss them all."

"I thought it might be difficult for them all, seeing you here," said Ms Curtis apologetically. "But I'll bring them all, as you wish."

Louis reached towards Harry. Harry got up and leaned into him, putting his arms around him. They hugged for a long moment. 

"Come on, Louis," said the nurse. 

Louis broke away.

"Goodbye, Louis," said Ms Curtis, moving to hug him. "I love you and want you to come home. Don't forget that."

"Goodbye," said Louis, allowing the nurse to escort him out the door. He held Monkey in his good hand.

"Come along, Harry," said Ms Curtis. Harry went with her. A nurse let them out of the ward, swiping her pass-key in the lock.

"Are you mad?" Harry asked.

"What you did was very dangerous, Harry. You're far too young to be catching public transport by yourself. Let alone skipping school. I don't know what got into you."

"You wouldn't let me see Loius."

"I thought it was for the best." They walked out the automatic doors. "I see I was wrong. Come on, I'll take you back to school."

***

Eventually, Louis was allowed to come home. Harry had been giddy with excitement ever since he woke up that morning, unable to settle at the thought of Louis being at home once again. Janet watched them while Ms Curtis went to pick Louis up. Harry took his skateboard into the driveway and played half-heartedly, all the time watching the road.

He saw Ms Curtis' van pull into the road and ripped his helmet off, waiting impatiently for her to drive into the carport. She pulled up and the van door slid open. Louis stepped out, holding Monkey. He was wearing just socks on his feet.

"Louis!" cried Harry and ran to him.

"Hi, little monkey." Louis held tightly onto him. 

"Louis, let me get your suitcase," said Ms Curtis, and they separated in order to let her get into the van and fetch Louis' suitcase. 

Louis handed Harry Monkey. "Thanks."

"Did he help?"

"Yeah. He smells like you. I slept with him."

"I slept in your bed," Harry confided. "Even when Ms Curtis changed the sheets. The pillow still smelled like you."

Inside, the boys were waiting. They all looked cheered to see him home, and each of them hugged him. Louis looked a little overwhelmed.

Ms Curtis had baked a cake and they all sat down to eat a slice. The boys asked about his experience. What was it like? Did he miss them? Did he make any friends?

"It was depressing," said Louis. "I'm going to do much better now that I'm home. Of course I missed you lads. I made a friend, Thomas. He has childhood schizophrenia. He hears voices in his head that come from nowhere. We tried to escape together once but we were caught."

"Oh, Louis," said Ms Curtis.

"It was hell," said Louis. "I never want to go back there again."

Louis looked drained. After the cake he said he felt tired and went and laid down on his bed. Ms Curtis unpacked his suitcase, put the case back under his bed, and left. Harry went and sat on the bed next to Louis. 

"I'm glad to be home," said Louis. "I wasn't getting any better in that place. The doctors were disappointed with me for the longest time."

"You stayed away for so long," said Harry. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"Are you going to sleep?"

"Maybe. These pills make me really tired."

"What kind of pills are they?" asked Harry.

"Anti-anxiety, and anti-depressants."

"Are you depressed?"

"I don't know," said Louis, putting a hand on Harry's leg. "They say I am."

"How can I cheer you up?"

"I don't think you can. I think it has to work out by itself."

"Are you going to keep playing football?"

"I don't know," Louis repeated. "I don't have any energy for it right now."

"Jason called you lots."

"He called me at the hospital. He's a good guy."

"Marissa called, too." Marissa, the girl Louis had dated in Year Six. They'd split up recently but still remained friends.

"I'll call her back later. What about you, Haz?" Louis patted Harry on the leg. "What have you been doing? You still dating Melody?"

"I'm still dating Melody. But she wants to kiss me, all the time. She doesn't want to play Playstation anymore, she wants us to play at husbands and wives. And," he paused, before continuing, "I tried to masturbate. But I think I did it wrong."

Louis stiffened. "You shouldn't tell me."

"Who else have I got to talk to?"

"It's just... Coach Morrison, I told you how he got me."

"You're not like Coach Morrison," said Harry firmly. "You're my older brother, and you're supposed to help with things like this."

Louis sat up and looked him seriously in the eyes. "You'll figure it out when you're ready."

"But I want to know. Otherwise I'll have to ask on the internet."

"No. Don't ask on the internet. You never know who you're talking with. People like Coach Morrison hang out on the internet looking for little boys like you." Louis gripped his shoulder. "Harry. Promise me you won't go on the internet."

"If you tell me," said Harry.

Louis sighed. "What did you do? Did you have a hard-on?"

"No."

"Wait until you've got a hard-on. It's easiest. Then just put your hand around it like this," Louis demonstrated in the air, "squeeze, and pull on it like this. Move the foreskin up and down."

"Oh," said Harry. "I didn't do that."

"Louis," Ms Curtis appeared in the doorway and they both sat bolt upright, "maybe you should have a nap. They told me you'd been taking afternoon naps at the hospital."

Harry expected Louis to protest, but he said, "Yeah, okay," and proceeded to lie down.

"Come away, Harry. Let him sleep."

Harry reluctantly climbed off the bed. "Do you want Monkey?" he asked Louis. "I'll fetch him for you."

"Thanks, Curly."

Harry got Monkey off his bed where he'd put him, and put him into Louis' arms. "Sleep tight," he said, smoothing the hair off Louis' forehead. Louis closed his eyes.

"Come out and help me with dinner, Harry," Ms Curtis said kindly.

Harry helped her, fetching ingredients, getting pots and pans, and carrying used items over to the sink.

"Is Louis going to be okay?" he asked.

Ms Curtis looked unsure. "I hope so," she said.

"Is he depressed?"

"Yes. That's what the doctors say."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you feel very sad, very tired, and it's hard for you to concentrate."

"Will he be going to school?" said Harry.

"It's Friday tomorrow, so no. I'm hoping to get him back there by Monday, though. It's important for him to keep up with routines, even if he finds it hard."

Louis woke up for dinner, but straight afterwards went and had a shower and went to bed. Harry crawled in with him when it was his own bedtime. Louis was awake.

"Have you slept?" asked Harry.

"Not since my naptime, no." He still had Monkey with him, however. Monkey settled down between their two bodies. "How have you been sleeping?"

"I still get scared at night." Harry had fallen asleep in class yesterday. It was the first time in a long time. Mr Foster had been concerned, but Harry, knowing Louis would be home the next day, reassured him.

"Don't forget to wake me up when it's time to check the house," said Louis. "What have you been doing without me?"

"Just lying awake, scared. Sniffing your sheets or your pillow, trying to pretend you're with me."

Louis took Harry up in his arms. "I won't ever let anyone hurt you. Not if I can help it."

"What happens if you go away, again?"

"Over my dead body," said Louis.

"You're not suicidal anymore?"

Louis sighed. "Stay near me, Harry."

Harry moved Monkey, pressed himself to Louis' chest, and held on.

***

Christmas passed. So did Louis' and Zayn's and Harry's birthdays. Harry was now ten and Louis twelve. 

Louis took a long time to get better. He seemed to half-exist for the longest time. He didn't skateboard, didn't play football, didn't do much of anything. His legs were sore, he said. He was tired. Ms Curtis said it was the depression. He had trouble eating and sleeping, despite the pills to help him. Often he'd spring awake at night with enough force to wake Harry, too. Harry would sing to him to settle him down. 

Louis went back to school but his grades began slipping. Once a week he had a free tutor coming out to help him with his schoolwork. 

He never talked about what had happened with Coach Morrison to Harry again.

It was one day in early Spring. Harry and Louis were sitting on the verandah steps, looking out over the back yard. Louis suddenly went down to the garden bed nearby and broke off a yellow flower. He came back up to Harry and stuck it behind Harry's ear. He smiled. "You look cute."

Harry beamed. He couldn't remember the last time Louis had smiled properly. 

After that, things seemed to get better. Louis' legs didn't hurt quite so much and he went back to skateboarding, just up and down the street, never too far from home anymore. He wore his helmet without being told. Before, Louis had liked to be noticed. Now, he kept to himself more. 

Coach Morrison had pleaded not guilty, so Louis had to go to court. After he gave evidence, Louis relapsed for a bit, taking once again to lying on his bed, but only for a short period. Coach Morrison was jailed and Louis began improving again. Slowly, he began to smile more. His energy improved; he began to wrestle once again with Harry, to tease him, to ruffle his hair. 

Finally, he took up football again. Harry came home from school one day just before the end of the school year and Louis was kicking the football up onto the roof, letting it roll down off the edge and doing headers.

"Hi, Haz," he said. "Want to be keeper?"

Anything for a happy Louis. "Yes," said Harry, coming down onto the lawn.

Louis kicked the football up on the roof again. This time as it came down, it lodged itself behind the bathroom's exhaust outlet. "Oh no. It's stuck. I'll have to go up and get it."

"You'll get into trouble."

"What's new?" said Louis, even though he hadn't been getting into any trouble at all for the past few months. The worst thing he'd done was refuse to eat. For a while Ms Curtis had to keep threatening him with hospital in order to get him to eat three meals a day. Louis was eating all right now. He'd gained back the weight he'd lost.

So Louis climbed up onto the roof. He tried to walk quietly, but it was hard to walk quietly on the roof. Sure enough, Ms Curtis came out. 

"Who's on the roof?" she said. "Harry?"

"Um."

Ms Curtis stood beside Harry and looked. "Louis Tomlinson, get down here now! And don't you dare jump off this time."

"I just have to get my ball!"

"Come down here right now!"

"It's just over here!"

"I don't care where it is."

Louis took another few steps until he was at the exhaust outlet. "Here, Harry!" he called, tossing the ball down.

"Louis!"

"I'm getting down," said Louis, beginning to make his way back over to the side gate.

Ms Curtis shook her head and smiled to herself. "I never thought I'd see the day I was happy that he was getting into trouble." Then she walked off to the side gate. A minute later, Harry could hear her berating him, before they walked back around the side of the house to the lawn. Ms Curtis went inside while Louis went over to Harry, who had fetched the ball in the meantime.

"Did she punish you?" asked Harry.

"No. She forgot. Come on. Let's play."

Late that night they lay together in Louis' bed, having done the check of the house. Harry was drifting off to sleep when Louis spoke. "It's nearly the end of school. What are you going to do when school starts up again ?"

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

"You'll be the only one still in primary school. Who will you hang out with, when Liam and Zayn and Niall aren't there?"

"I've got plenty of friends I can hang out with."

"Good," said Louis. "So you won't be alone."

"There's Melody, too."

"Still dating her?"

"Yes. Are you dating anybody?"

Harry felt Louis stiffen beside him. "No."

"Do you want to?"

Louis was silent. Then he said, "I don't think I can date anybody, ever again."

"But you like having a girlfriend," said Harry.

"I'm damaged goods."

"No, you're not."

Louis said softly, "I am. What girl wants to be with a boy who's had his first sexual experience with a child molester?"

"You don't have to tell them."

Louis snorted. "Of course not. But I'll know."

They both fell silent. Harry didn't know what to say to make Louis feel better. He settled for bringing a hand up and stroking Louis' arm.

"I get flashbacks," whispered Louis, "where it's like I'm still with him, where he's still touching me. I had one in class the other day. At the end of it, I had to pretend I was sick, because I'd dropped my book on the floor. So I got out of class and went to the sickbay and just lay there, feeling sick. I can't tell anyone what happened. This psychologist Ms Curtis has me seeing, she keeps saying to relax, to talk when I'm ready, but I don't think I'll ever be ready. I trusted him. I liked him. What do I do if I can't trust my own judgement? It could happen again. It could happen to you. I don't think I'd be able to stand it if it happened to you. You've got to promise me you'll keep yourself safe, Harry."

"I promise," said Harry.

"I can't protect you. How can I protect you against someone like him? He seemed so nice. He was nice right up to the end of everything. He's never been anything but nice. It makes me feel guilty, like it was all my fault."

"You didn't want him to do that. It wasn't your fault."

"But what if I liked it?" said Louis. "That's my fault, if I liked it. I liked it the first time he touched me. He made me feel special."

"He was wrong," said Harry. "He shouldn't have touched you. You're not his to touch."

"I didn't like it when he made me touch him, when he.... I didn't like anything that happened after that. But I liked it at first. I must be sick."

Louis was crying, silently. It was dark but Harry could tell, not only by the way his body shook, but by the way he could feel as some of Louis' tears ran onto his forehead where it was resting below Louis' chin.

"It's not your fault," said Harry, because he believed it, but also to reassure Louis.

"It is. It has to be. There must be something about me."

"Louis, he's an adult. He's not supposed to hurt children. It's all his fault."

"You know," said Louis, "if it wasn't for you I wouldn't still be here. You're the reason I'm still alive."

"Don't say that," said Harry.

"But it's true. I have to make sure nothing like this ever happens to you. You're too pure."

"What does that mean?"

"You're Harry," said Louis, bringing an arm around to cuddle him. "You're everything that means goodness. You deserve better than me."

"But I love you, Louis."

Harry could feel Louis shaking his head. "Your last foster family screwed you up. You'll soon realise there's better than me."

"I won't, ever," said Harry fiercely, gripping onto Louis' arm. "I'll never leave you, Louis."

Louis shuddered and sniffled. "You don't know what you're saying, Harry."

But Harry knew what he was saying. He loved Louis with every fibre of his being, with his head, with his hands, with his heart and lungs, with his toes. It upset him to know that Louis was upset. He tried to soothe the pain away, murmuring things under his breath, stroking Louis. 

"I love you forever," he told Louis.

Louis just clung on tight to him and didn't say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this work was so depressing, but I'm doing a sequel, it's just that it's set two years later than the current story so didn't seem to fit.


End file.
